Mara's Story
by Pern Dreamer
Summary: A thirty-one turn woman has impressed a brown dragon.  How did that happen?  Read and let me know if its believable.  Complete!
1. Keroon Gather

Normond is explained in chapter 3

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey:

I gratefully acknowledge your ownership of the world of Pern, its' dragons and other creatures,

and all the persons you have created to thrill all of us hope and peace starved Earthlings.

I also promise to you, in sight of all who witness this feeble attempt at embellishment,

that I will not ever ask for or accept so much as a quarter-mark for any of my attempts

at filling in some of the blanks you so kindly left for us to explore.

**

* * *

****Keroon Hold – Summer Gather**

G'raden, rider of bronze Normond, and three more bronze riders sat at a dirty table under a tattered shade cloth in an eating stall near the Keroon Harbor. A gentle afternoon breeze coming off the harbor dried heat induced sweat on the dragonriders' skin as the tattered cloth billowed over their heads. They sat alone, as few people chose to share the shade cloth after seeing four Benden Weyr dragonriders sitting beneath it, and those who did sat as far away as possible. Each man had a plate and a mug in front of him – G'radens' plate and mug were empty, but the others still had partially eaten meat rolls and nearly full mugs of a juice that should have been refreshing. G'raden, the tallest and largest of the riders, might have been mistaken for the leader of the group. He lounged back in his chair, smiling at nothing in particular, while the others seemed a bit uncomfortable.

One of the riders stood, grimacing as he peeled his hand from the sticky table top. "G'raden, we've seen enough. Let's go."

G'radens' smiled broadened. "Oh, come on now, T'men. Our Weyrleader asked us to observe, so let's observe. And," he added with a wink "he asked us to talk to people, get a feel for the mood."

T'men nearly growled, but spoke quietly enough that only the other riders could hear. "The only people talking here are those taking our marks! And they aren't even saying more than 'thank you for the marks and kiss my arse'!"

As G'regg and B'nor laughed with forced amusement, G'raden stood and placed a large hand on T'mens' shoulder. "Come on now, man. Have a seat," he pushed T'men back onto his chair "and let me tell you how Keroon used to be." He sat back into his own chair, eyes seeing something the other riders couldn't.

G'regg said to B'nor, "Ahh, here we go again. Sit down and be quite T'men. The sooner he gets his story out, the sooner we can go home and get some edible food." He pushed his plate, and its' meat roll missing one bite, to the far edge of the table, leaned back in his chair while crossing his arms across his chest, put his feet up and rolled his eyes.

T'men grumbled something under his breath, as B'nor laughed and assumed the same laid back posture as G'regg, preparing to hear once again, their friends' fond remembrance of his childhood home.

"I's only ten," G'raden slipped back into his Keroonian drudge dialect "when I's searched, ya know. But that last summer," he grinned mischievously, just as a ten turn boy might have once, "I snaked my way over to the Gather. Ohh. I'd ne'er seen so many fine looking people, all smilin' and laughin' and dressed up as I'd ne'er seen afore. The ladys 'as wearin' the purtiest lightweight gowns." He giggled childishly. "When the breeze blowed them gowns," his eyes widened as if he were there, "I feared my eyes 'as gonna be fish food down in the harbor." The other riders, except for T'men, laughed and grinned knowingly. T'men rolled his eyes and only half grinned. "And the hold 'erself? Oh, what a sight she was. The white stone walkways glistened in the sun. Walls had been washed and pots o' greens settin' out ever where. The main hold there?" He pointed to the now dirty, cracked and wherrie dung stained Lord Holders' hall. "It stood like a monument, flags a wavin' from atop the roof. And dragons o' all colors landin' in that courtyard right there, unloadin' more fine looking people and jumpin' straight up into the air. Oh, what a sight!" All the other riders smiled at the picture G'raden painted of their beloved dragons. "And the smells!" G'raden inhaled a deep breath through his nose. "Smelled as good as Bendens' kitchen on a seventh day! Oh, how my tummy roared at them smells." He rubbed his belly as his smile faded to a guilty frown. "I took one o' them spicy smellin' meat rolls." T'men growled disgust as G'regg and B'nor laughed. "I's hungry all the time back then, ya see. And they's all lined up on that grill, so many of 'em all perfectly browned and steamin' and smellin' so good." He ran the back of his hand across his mouth and licked his lips. "And I took one, and I ran for my very life." He looked sheepishly at the grinning dragonriders. "See, I knew stealin' weren't right, but I's so hungry back then." Then he turned his eyes back to the memory of that day. "So, I ran, dodgin' all them fine people. Every time I'd take a bite," he closed his eyes and worked his jaw as if chewing, "I'd smack into someone. Smacked into a few of them purty gowns, too!" He shrugged at the laughing riders. "And then I smacked right into the backside of the biggest blue dragon I'd ever seen." The riders all seemed to raise their eyebrows at the same time. "Well," G'raden grinned "first dragon I'd e'er seen up close. I's only ten, remember?" When the others laughed, he continued. "I dropped my meat roll, needin' both hands to feel that soft hide. Then the tallest skinniest man I'd e'er seen grabbed my tunic and spun me around. I thought sure I'd be fishbait 'fore sundown. But he smiled at me." G'radens' wide eyes were looking up toward the sky. "That was the biggest smile I'd e'er seen on a man, lest he's looking at a woman. No anger. No meanness at all. Just smilin'. At me!"

T'men couldn't resist teasing. "Some of those blue riders really like little boys, you know." The others laughed.

G'raden didn't laugh. He smiled tightly at T'men. "Oh, that wasn't it at all! That man was just plain happy to be alive. I'd never seen such a beautiful, proud, happy smile."

T'men, having only been transferred to Benden Weyr recently, continued his teasing. "Maybe you should have impressed a blue, G'raden!" G'regg and B'nor, having known G'raden since shortly before they'd all impressed their bronzes from the same clutch of eggs, stiffened significantly.

G'raden slammed both massive fists on the table, upsetting the mugs of juice. "I said that wasn't it!"

G'regg and B'nor were on their feet, moving cautiously to either side of G'raden. Both glared at T'men. Neither touched G'raden, but both were prepared to grab and restrain him. "Calm down, G'raden." soothed G'regg. "He's only jealous that anyone in Keroon could be that happy."

T'men quickly reevaluated the situation and the rider currently glaring at him with puffed out chest, white knuckled fists, and veins throbbing at the sides of his growling face. He had no idea that the usually smiling giant had such a temper. T'men put out his right hand and smiled his most charming smile. "I was only teasing, G'raden." He bowed his head slightly, not taking his eyes off the bronze rider who was currently sizing him up for battle. "I sincerely apologize, G'raden, for interrupting your fine story."

B'nor, poised behind G'raden slapped a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, G'raden. It's a beautiful day!" When the massive man only grunted, he went on. "Tell us the rest of your story." G'regg rolled his eyes. "And then let's see if we can find some of those 'purty gowns'. The last two words seemed to calm down their friend.

G'radens' eyes smiled as he grunted. He firmly and none too gently gripped T'mens' forearm. T'men returned the strong grip and they shook arms as G'raden said with a dare, "I still think that that same blue dragon is one of them what searched me some thirty turns ago."

"Well, that blue dragon made a real good choice, G'raden" T'men declared with all the sincerity he could muster. "I've never seen a finer looking pair than you and Bronze Normond, G'raden." The riders standing behind G'raden both rolled their eyes, but slumped slightly in relief at T'mens' very well chosen words. G'raden himself wasn't a proud man, but he was as proud of his Normond as any dragonrider was of his own life mate.

G'radens' chin rose in defiance as he leaned back into his chair. T'men brushed a bead of sweat from his temple, muttering something about the heat, as he sat back into his chair. G'regg and B'nor both grinned at T'men as they moved back to their own chairs. When all were seated again, G'raden said gruffly "Where was I?"

Four bronze dragons let loose with simultaneous loud, angry bugles. Three riders' chairs crashed to the cobblestones. "It's all right, Normond" said G'raden.

_It's not all right! She's hurt and she needs our help!"_

"Who's hurt?" G'raden roared as his chair joined the other three on the cobblestones.

_Mara! She's in the stables._ As G'raden started running in one direction, Normond corrected him. _No. The old stables. Hurry!_

As G'raden changed course abruptly, the three other bronze riders made room quickly and followed. "Who's Mara?" asked T'men. He and the others had heard the same news at the same time as G'raden.

B'nor answered as they ran. "She's the woman all the dragons talk to each time they fly over Keroon."

As they approached the old stables, G'raden was shocked at the degradation of the place. He had worked here as a child, moving bags of grain and bales of grasses from wagons to the now caved-in store room and back out to the stalls as needed by the stablemaster. Outside, paddock fences were rotting away and half had fallen to the ground. The whole place reeked of stale, rotting dung. Four angry bronze dragonriders splashed through muddy puddles of greenish, yellowish muck caused by recent rains.

G'raden reached the broken door to the stables first. "What goes on here?" he roared. A loud, raucous laughing group of drunken men half way down the line of dilapidated stalls didn't seem to notice him. He barreled down the line of stalls, shoving drunks out of his way till he was at the entrance to the stall attracting all the attention. And there he stood, jaw dropped and eyes wide in disbelief.

A stoop-backed old toothless man stupidly stumbled up to him. "Ride the wild beast!" he said. "Quarter mark a ride!" He quickly moved back with terror on his withered old face.

G'raden swelled up like a wine skin about to pop and roared. "Leave her be!" The boards forming the stall entrance snapped as he pushed himself inside, swinging at anyone who came within reach.

The three dragonriders with him stayed outside the stall. G'regg yelled, "Now calm down, G'raden. She's got help now." When a man flew over the wall at him, the rider caught him awkwardly, steadied him and roughly pushed him to the main entrance. T'men and B'nor went to nearby stalls, collecting and roughly escorting more drunken and dazed men toward the main door.

As the last of the drunks were shoved out of the stables, G'raden yelled "Bring some blankets!" He stood and pointed to a nearly whole room near the center of the stables. "Check the tack room" he demanded and quickly disappeared back down into the stall.

T'men was closest to the tack room. The door was locked, so he slammed his shoulder against it, causing the old rotting wood to shatter. He found a stack of old threadbare, insect eaten runner-beast blankets and hurried back to the stall. He stopped at the entrance to the stall, shocked by the sight before him. G'raden, that huge bronze dragonrider who had just thrown a dozen or more men over the walls of this stall, was kneeling next to the woman, tears streaming down his face as he stroked her swollen, bruised and bleeding face.

T'men shook his head once, trying to clear the shock from his mind. With the blankets in one arm, he used the other to loosen one from the top of the pile. He spread it as best he could, covering the battered body of the woman laying in the muck. He was surprised at the size of her. She probably stood as tall as he did, and was nearly as heavily muscled as G'raden. Could they be related? He dropped to one knee on the other side of the woman. "Do you know her, G'raden?" he asked gently.

G'raden shook his head as he started tucking the blanket around the woman. "Only what Normond's told me." He smiled up at T'men without the least bit of embarrassment as tears dripped from his chin. "Normond says she's the sweetest, kindest," he nearly choked up, "happiest woman he's ever had the pleasure of speaking with." His face twisted into a grimace as he nearly spat the next words. "How could anyone do this to another human being?"

T'men passed another blanket over the woman. "I don't know, G'raden." He watched the giant gently spread the second rag over the first and start tucking. "But she's got good help now." He helped tuck the blanket on his side. G'raden gently raised her head and shoulders, pulling the blankets to cover her back. T'men shook out another blanket as G'raden cradled her in his arms and lifted. T'men placed the blanket over the woman and carefully wrapped it under and around her. As G'raden swung her away slightly, T'men pulled the edges up between G'radens' chest and the woman. "Where's the nearest healer? I'll. . ."

"Isn't a healer worth a handful of this muck in Keroon anymore! Make way." G'raden carried Mara out of the stall and toward the paddocks outside.

Four bronze dragons were crowded into the paddock area, eyes whirling angry red and orange. Already rotten fences had been smashed to the muddy ground as they jostled each other in their shared anxiety. G'regg and B'nor were already mounted as G'raden and T'men reached the doorway. Normond and T'mens' bronze both squatted as low as possible to give the other two enough wing room to launch into the air. One launched up, away and to the left as the other went up, away and to the right, leaving room for the two remaining bronzes to spread out.

G'raden marched to still crouching Normonds' side. T'men followed to help him mount if necessary, but was stopped short when Normonds' huge head came between them. T'men could only watch as G'raden stepped onto his dragons' outstretched forepaw and was then lifted ever so gently by Normonds' head. T'men frowned, both at the display of teamwork and at the next question. "Where are you taking her? I'll follow."

Once G'raden was settled and buckled into his riding harness, he carefully positioned Mara before him. "I'm taking her home," he growled at T'men "where she belongs. Let's go Normond!" Normond launched high into the air and was between before his wings were fully spread to take their first downward stroke.

T'men shook his head as he rushed to his own dragon. "I hope that's a good idea."

_It is._ His dragons' very strongly felt words surprised him as they launched and headed toward Benden Weyr.

* * *

Well, that's it for Chapter 1.

Hope you enjoy reading it half as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Please let me know if I should continue.

Chapter 2 is coming real soon.


	2. Benden Weyr? Really?

Normond is explained in Chapter 3

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey:

I gratefully acknowledge your ownership of the world of Pern, its' dragons and other creatures,

and all the persons you have created to thrill all of us hope and peace starved Earthlings.

I also promise to you, in sight of all who witness this feeble attempt at embellishment,

that I will not ever ask for or accept so much as a quarter-mark for any of my attempts

at filling in some of the blanks you so kindly left for us to explore.

**

* * *

**

Benden Weyr – Later the same Day

In the Weyrleaders' office stood three people – Weyrleader F'lar, rider of Bronze Mnementh, arms crossed, half seated on the top of the desk, Weyrwoman Lessa, rider of Queen Gold Ramoth, arms flapping, storming back and forth, and Bronze Rider G'raden, rider of Normond, standing with hands clasped in front of him, watching the furious weyrwoman.

Lessa stopped barely a pace from the very tall and very large bronze rider. Hands on her hips, head craned back to see his face, she almost hissed at him. "How many times do I have to tell you riders, we cannot bring home every stray holdless creature on this planet." When the rider looked at the ground between them, Lessa pointed at a chair. "Sit, G'raden! My neck hurts."

F'lar smiled as his weyrmate continued with the 'disciplinary' action.

G'raden sat where directed, placing his clasped hands on his lap. "Sorry, Lady Lessa."

F'lar nearly burst into laughter when his lovely little lady stood in front of the massive rider. Their heads were almost at the same level.

Lessa glared at the big man who was staring at the floor. She reached out and slapped his upper arm with all her strength. "Stop looking at the floor, G'raden! How many times do we have to tell you that?"

F'lar had to place a hand over his mouth to cover his grin. When G'raden sat up straight and looked at Lessa, their eyes were level.

Hands on hips again, Lessa kept going. "So, what do you have to say, G'raden?"

G'raden slumped just slightly until Lessa slapped him again. Then he sat even straighter until his eyes were slightly higher than hers. "She's not a stray holdless creature, Lady Lessa. That's Mara, the lady the dragons like to talk to."

"So you brought her here, to Benden Weyr!"

G'radens' chin lifted slightly. "Where else should a dragons' friend be taken?" He seemed to regret his defiance. "Who else has better healers, My Lady?" He spoke softly, but maintained eye contact until he closed his eyes for longer than a blink. Lessa slapped him again. Anger blazed in his eyes, for just a heartbeat. "What was I supposed to do? Leave her there for those inept misfits in Keroon to care for her?"

F'lar stood, realizing that Lessa was finally getting what she wanted from the man. She had been trying to get him angry – at her – since she first met him. For some reason he didn't fully understand, she needed to know how G'raden would treat a woman if he were truly angry with her. His temper with men was well known in the weyr and most people avoided giving him any reason to lose that temper.

Lessa kept her place, hands on hips and spoke to him as if to a slow-witted child. "She doesn't belong here, G'raden!"

G'radens' chest puffed out as he drew a deep breath, a grimace on his face. He almost stood, but grabbed the seat of his chair instead. He almost bellowed. "She belongs here more'n she belongs there!" After a couple more deep breaths, he added more calmly through clenched teeth "My Lady." He did not lose eye contact.

Lessa stood glaring at the big man for a few more deep breaths before crossing her arms in front of her. "Do you know anything about her, G'raden?"

G'radens' eyes lowered, but only to Lessas' chin before snapping back to her eyes. "Only what Normond has told me, My Lady." When she looked puzzled, he continued. "That she's kind, and sweet, and almost always happy, and that he and the other dragons enjoy talking with her very much."

Lessas' head tilted slightly as her queen spoke to her. _The sweet one is awake, my dear._ Lessa wondered if Ramoth was being sarcastic. Ramoth said nothing.

Lessas' posture relaxed somewhat as she addressed G'raden. "It seems that this Mara," she said the name with some displeasure "is finally awake. Shall we meet her, G'raden?"

G'raden stood so fast, his chair skidded loudly behind him. When he turned to pull it back, Lessa had to duck the swing of his balancing arm. Lessa turned to F'lar biting both lips, fighting a grin and rolling her eyes. F'lar grinned back. When G'raden turned back around, he grinned sheepishly at Lessa, doggedly maintaining eye contact. "Sorry."

Lessa cleared her throat as she wrapped both her hands around his forearm. She turned him toward the door and turned her head back into the room. "F'lar? Are you coming?"

F'lar smiled broadly as he shook his head at his unbelievably brave little weyrwoman. "Yes, dear! Right behind you."

- - - - -

**Benden Weyr Healers Hall**

Lessa stopped G'raden in the hall just outside the healers' sick room. "You wait here, G'raden."

G'raden looked embarrassed. "I forgot to tell you, Lady," he grinned slightly "she's almost as big as me."

Lessa, eyes gone wide, but smiling, studied him for a heartbeat. She patted his arm and entered the room.

Weyrleader F'lar followed her in, but stopped just inside the entrance, where he could see and hear what was happening without being seen.

G'raden sighed deeply and leaned his back against the wall.

As Lessa entered, she saw Loralin, a visiting healers' apprentice giving her patient a drink. When the healer looked at Lessa, she frowned and mouthed the word 'Fellis'. Lessa nodded.

Loralin gently wiped Maras' swollen mouth. "Looks like you have a visitor, Mara." When Mara tried to sit, she was gently pushed back to the pillow. "Don't try to move, dear. She'll come over here. You just rest." The healer stepped back out of the way.

Lessa winced as she saw the large womans' face for the first time. Her eyes were almost swollen closed. Her face and throat were a swollen, bruised, bandaged mess. Her arms, lying on top of the blanket, were red with scratches, scrapes and cuts where they weren't purple with bruises. Her hands were swollen and scraped. Lessa drew in a deep breath, gritted her teeth and smiled as she walked to the head of the bed. "Hello, Mara. My name is Lessa."

Mara gasped as she turned her swollen face. "Lady Lessa? Weyrwoman of Benden Weyr?" Her hoarse words were slurred and slightly garbled, as if she had a wad of fabric in her mouth.

Lessa blushed slightly. "Yes, dear. That would be me." She tried to find an un-bruised patch of skin to touch, but gave up and crossed her arms instead.

Maras' eyes closed as her head rolled back to center on the pillow. She seemed to be talking to herself. "Warm, soft bed, no pain and Lady Lessa of Benden Weyr at my side." She sighed and then smiled. "I must be dead."

Lessa jerked straight up and then moved aside to make room for the healer.

"I'm sorry, Lessa. I didn't know you were coming."

"That's all right. I'm not sure I could have found any more words." She gathered herself up and smiled at Loralin. "Let me know when she wakes in the morning?"

"Of course. And I'll hold the fellis."

Lessa turned and walked straight to F'lar. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest.

F'lar hugged her tight, kissing the top of her head until she straightened, took a deep breath and walked out of the room.

In the hall, Lessa squared off in front of G'raden. "You," she poked a finger into his chest "will be responsible for her while she's here."

G'raden had not had time to stand up straight when Lessa appeared and was not about to push away from the wall just now. "Yes, Lady Lessa."

"And as long as she is in the healer hall, you" she poked his chest again "unless you are fighting thread," another poke "or preparing to fight thread," and another "or sleeping," and still another poke "will make yourself available to help the healers in whatever way they need." She placed her hands on her hips. "Do you understand, G'raden?"

A smile filled G'radens' eyes as he realized the gift he was being given. "Yes, Lady Lessa."

"Good" and she studied him.

His eyes twinkled as they continued to meet hers. "May I eat, Lady Lessa?"

Lessa slapped him hard on his arm, turned and marched down the hallway.

G'raden pushed away from the wall, watching with regret and amusement as his weyrwoman stormed away, just as F'lar stepped in front of him. G'raden snapped to attention. His weyrleader gave no hint as to his feelings. "I don't mean to make her so angry, Weyrleader."

F'lar allowed a smile to slowly brighten his face. "G'raden." He shook his head. "She's not angry at you," he frowned "except when you won't look her in the eye."

G'radens' mouth twitched as if unsure whether to smile or frown as he blushed while fighting to maintain eye contact with his weyrleader. "She seemed angry at me for bringing Mara here."

F'lar smiled again and nodded. "Your bringing her here reminded our lovely Lady that all of Pern is not as . . . pleasant as our weyr. But most of her anger was at the men who could do such a thing." He motioned to the sick room. "But they aren't here." He poked G'raden in the same spot Lessa had abused and grinned devilishly. "You are!"

G'raden winced slightly. He would definitely find a bruise in that spot this evening. "Did I do the right thing, Weyrleader?"

F'lar shot him a stern look. "What do you think, Bronze Rider?"

G'raden squared his shoulders and his chin lifted slightly. "I believe I did the right thing."

Weyrleader F'lar nodded once. "That's what's important, G'raden!"

G'raden slumped and his eyes strayed to his weyrleaders' shoulder. "But. . ."

F'lar slapped him hard exactly where Lessa had slapped him before. He smiled at G'raden before turning to follow his lovely lady. After a few steps, he heard an 'Ouch' from behind him and laughed out loud.

G'raden chuckled at his retreating weyrleader as he rubbed his sore arm. He leaned back against the wall and then thought better of the idea. Wouldn't want to trip one of the healers, he thought to himself. So he pushed off the wall and moved to the other side of the hallway.

_Good thinking._ Normond seemed fairly relaxed.

_Do you know how she's doing, my friend? No one's told me yet._ G'raden was about to slide down the wall to sit and wait.

_She's sleeping, but she has bad dreams. So we talk to her._

_You're a good friend, Normond._

G'radens' seat had almost hit the floor when the healer entered the hallway.

"Ooo!" she jumped. "G'raden! I didn't know you were here." She smiled as the giant man pushed himself up to stand at almost his full height – he slumped slightly. The sight of such a large man always took her by surprise, but the kind, gentleness of this man warmed her heart. "Would you like to come in, G'raden?"

"May I? I won't be in the way, will I?"

"Actually, I was just about to ask someone to sit with her while I take my evening meal." She took his arm and tugged him into the room. "She'll probably sleep till morning, now, but someone needs to sit with her in case there are any problems."

"I can do that."

As she led him closer to the sick bed, G'raden drew a raspy breath. Loralin led him to a chair conveniently placed near the head of the bed. "She's been covered head to toe with numbweed, and she just drank a large dose of fellis, so I doubt that she feels anything right now, G'raden."

As the big man sat very slowly, he said in a very hushed tone, "Normond says she's having bad dreams."

The healer patted G'raden on the shoulder. "I don't wonder why. I won't be too long. The biggest thing we're worried about right now is the swelling in her throat. If she has any trouble breathing, G'raden, take her pillow away and find some help. All right?"

G'radens' sad smile touched the healer. "I can do that" he said.

Having no doubts in the caring capabilities of this man, Loralin squeezed his shoulder and left to take some nourishment for herself.

- - - - -

Loralin returned from another filling and satisfying meal in the Benden main hall, scolding herself for taking so long and for eating so much. She stopped just outside the sick room housing her latest patient. She could hear G'raden talking quietly. She eavesdropped with only minor guilt.

"Oh, I just know you'll like it here. And then, after mid-day meal, if there's no thread to fight, is when we get to do just about anything we please, unless there's some special project. Then everyone pitches in to help. Oh, is it fun! All the laughing and joking and teasing just makes any chore go so much faster! And if there aren't any special projects, well, some of us do some exploring on that Southern Continent, and some of us just take a nap, and some of us just help out where ever we can. Like the kitchen, or the beast holds or the weyrling barracks, or . . ."

Loralin didn't know G'raden had so many words in him. He had always been rather quiet during the times they spent together. She stepped into the room and found Maras' hand resting on G'radens' open hand. The bronze rider was watching Maras' face as he spoke softly. As he spoke, her fingers would occasionally twitch as if trying to squeeze a reply.

The healer, smiling gently, cleared her throat. G'raden was startled and turned to face her, but his hand didn't even twitch.

The big burly, bronze dragonrider blushed as if he had something to be embarrassed about. "Talking keeps the bad dreams away." He smiled apologetically.

"That's good to know, G'raden." Loralin walked to a small table behind him and laid down a book. She turned back and began massaging his shoulders. "I brought a book with me to pass the time. I think I might just read out loud tonight." She leaned down closer to his face. "Do you think that will help?"

G'raden blushed more deeply as his eyes darted in every direction but to the healer. Finally, full of concern, they settled on her. "What kind of book?"

The healer smiled broadly. "The Story of Moreta!"

The bronze riders face lit up like a childs'. He drew in a quick breath and smiled. "Oh, she'll like that! She likes dragons, you know. And they like her. She'll like hearing about Moreta!"

The healer laughed at his enthusiasm and kissed him on the cheek. "Then Moreta it is. And I'll even start over at the beginning." When he turned away blushing brightly, she laughed again. She straightened behind him and patted his shoulders. "So, were there any problems while I was gone?"

"The numbweed on the back of her head soaked into the pillow instead of her skin, so I put more on."

"How'd you know that, G'raden?"

He looked at the hand under Maras'. "I felt it."

She resumed massaging his shoulders. Everyone seemed to think there was something 'special' about this man, but most would say that his 'specialness' was just simple-wittedness. She'd never believed that, because dragons had never impressed 'simple' people, especially perfectly healthy bronze dragons like Normond. This man spoke softly and not very much, but simple? She didn't think so.

"Is that how you knew that my shin was scraped so badly?" She had been rushing up the stone stairs to deliver a hangover medicine (G'raden never seemed to drink much) when she had slipped and removed a good deal of skin from one shin. G'raden had been on the stairs and helped her. Wearing trousers, she wasn't aware of the damage done. But G'raden made her sit and wait while he delivered the medicine, and then had carried her back down to the healer halls.

He nearly mumbled. "Yeah."

She leaned down and kissed his other cheek.

"Ahhh, you stop that now, you hear?" He was blushing again as he mock scolded her.

Oh, how she loved to see a grown man blush. She leaned further and hugged him tight. "You, my sweet friend, had better get something to eat. The cook tried a new blend of herbs and spices and the roasted herdbeast was almost gone when I left!"

G'raden was the color of a ripened redfruit. He smiled and patted the arms hugging his chest. "I guess I better hurry, then."

Loralin laughed as she stood back up. She smiled as the bronze rider gently removed his hand from under Maras'. "You should get some sleep, G'raden. She's going to be all right, you know. It will just take a little time."

As G'raden stood up, he reached out and took the healer by the shoulders. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you, Loralin."

Now it was the healers' turn to imitate a redfruit. All she could do was smile as he walked to the entrance.

Before he left, he turned and winked at the healer. "I'll be back in the morning, all right?"

- - - - -

Bronze rider T'men found the riders he had spent a most interesting day with. At their invitation, he had joined them for the evening meal. G'regg and B'nor retold the events of the day with great jocularity and only slight embellishment quite a few times to any rider who asked. T'men was mostly silent, just listening and watching, hoping to learn all he could about the people in his new home before he made any more near fatal mistakes.

When requests for repeats of the story of the day slowed, T'men remained silent, reflecting on how much he had learned in one short day, and on how much he still had left to learn.

B'nor elbowed G'regg and nodded toward T'men. They both watched him for a few heartbeats and then shared a grin between them.

B'nor, being closest, backhanded T'mens' arm. "What's weighing so heavy on your mind, rider?"

T'men put on a brave smile. "Just rehashing the days' events."

G'regg frowned at him. "Something bothering you about today?"

"Bothering? No!" T'men said quickly. "I've just got some . . . questions floating around unanswered, and . . ."

"What kind of questions?" G'regg asked defensively.

T'men studied the two bronze riders who were watching him. These two had obviously been friends for quite some time. This seemed rehearsed, somehow. T'men tested his theory. "About G'raden."

The riders said in unison, "What about G'raden?"

T'men smiled to himself. These two were not only friends of the giant, but defenders as well! He would have to be very careful not to offend any of them. "He's so . . . unique."

The two bronze riders looked at each other in surprise and then laughed. G'regg was the first to speak. "Unique!"

"One of a kind." B'nor tried to help.

"I know what it means, you fool." He said it again as if taking a second sip of fine wine. "Unique!"

"I like it!" said B'nor.

They both turned toward T'men at the same time. T'mens' eyebrows were high over a confused smile. G'regg tried to ease the bemused riders mind. "Our G'raden is definitely 'unique'" he declared.

B'nor backhanded T'mens' arm again and added, "I've never heard him described so . . . accurately!"

G'regg stretched his arm around his friend and offered his hand to T'men. "So, what do you want to know about our friend, friend?"

T'men let out a relieved chuckle and took the offered hand. "How long have you known him? The three of you act like . . . brothers."

The two old friends both laughed. G'regg answered. "Brothers we are! We all three impressed from the same clutch of eggs, what," he looked to B'nor "thirty some turns ago?"

"Noooo, you fool! We're not that old!" He put up his hands and did some calculations with his fingers. Wide eyes turned to T'men. "Well, almost thirty turns ago," then he looked at G'regg "but not 'thirty some' for sure."

G'regg laughed and continued talking to T'men. "Well, you already know that G'raden was ten turns old when he was searched. When we met him, he had already stood through two hatchings without being impressed."

B'nor continued. "Oh, he was teased mercilessly by some of the other boys. So you could say that we 'adopted' G'raden as our little brother." He grinned.

"He was easy pickings for some of those older boys. He was bigger than most of them, but painfully shy!"

"We were thirteen and fourteen" B'nor nodded to G'regg "at the time and poor 'little' G'raden was only twelve. So we 'adopted' him."

"And gave him some of the training he never got from living in Keroon." G'regg let out a disgusted huff.

"A lot of people thought G'raden being searched was a mistake." B'nor shook his head at the memory. "But when he impressed Normond?"

"They had a lot of people scratching their heads, those two did." G'regg laughed as he continued. "Our 'little brother' walked around with his chest all puffed out with pride and a downright luminescent glow on his face." He seemed proud of the big word he had just used.

"When he wasn't scrunched down, talking nonstop to that perfect little bronze of his!" They all three laughed at the thought of the sight.

"And after that day," G'regg went on "those older boys learned real quick they might get away with teasing G'raden, but they sharding well better not say one single bad word about Normond!"

"G'raden drew more than his share of blood those first few seven-days."

"And spent a lot of time at the firestone piles for it, too. Till he figured out how to fight without drawing blood." G'regg raised his chin as if proud to be the teacher of that particular skill.

T'men could only smile at the two bronze riders. He felt somehow privileged to be hearing this story of these three men. How to phrase the next burning question?

B'nor turned to G'regg and almost whispered, but loud enough for T'men to hear. "I don't think we're answering the questions he wants answered."

G'regg lifted his eyebrows and used the same almost whisper. "Give him time, little brother. He'll find the words."

T'men squinted at the two. Was this a hint at the answers he sought? "Umm." T'men cleared his throat, not certain why he was having so much trouble talking today. Shock, maybe? He'd seen some pretty surprising and shocking events this day. Maybe he was just a little tired. He decided to go ahead and ask. "He seems . . . almost . . ."

"Spit it out, man!" ordered G'regg.

Definitely rehearsed, thought T'men. Was he being set up for some joke? Or for a fight? He needed to find out. "Simple." He grinned apologetically.

The two bronze riders swapped first raised eyebrows, then frowns, then grins, before G'regg said sternly, "G'raden doesn't usually say much, but he is far from 'simple'.

B'nor went on. "He figures some stuff out long before anyone else. He just has a little trouble finding the right words."

T'men nodded understanding. Not feeling in any immediate danger, he took another chance. "He seems rather . . . sensitive for a dragonrider."

"Oh, that he is!" said the older G'regg.

B'nor grinned. "You got an itch on your backside? He'll know it as soon as he shakes your hand!"

"Really?" was all T'men could manage before G'regg stood up smiling.

"Speaking of an itch on the backside, here comes G'raden now!" He said it loud enough that several riders nearby laughed good naturedly.

G'raden smiled and blushed as he approached his friends. G'regg shook hands with him and pulled him to the chair he had just vacated. "You almost missed a really good meal, G'raden. Good thing we asked Cook to save you a plate! Have a seat, little brother! And I'll go get it for you."

G'raden seemed surprised at such a reception. Before he sat, he and B'nor shook hands. And then he offered his hand to T'men.

B'nor chuckled as T'men hesitated before shaking G'radens' hand, and then said "Have a seat 'little brother'!"

G'raden frowned at B'nor, but took a seat. When they were all settled, G'regg was just returning from the kitchen with not one, but two plates piled high with roasted herdbeast, a big chunk of savory bread, a small side of roasted tubers, and a glass of ale balanced on one of the plates. He placed the plates just so in front of the big bronze rider and bowed with a flourish. "For my hero."

G'raden glared at G'regg, but muttered "Thank you." Then he dug in to his plates as if he hadn't eaten in days.

T'men watched the big man pack away his food as several riders stopped by one at a time to offer 'Good Job' or 'You made us proud' or variations of the same. G'raden would shake their hands, blush and mutter 'Thank you' to each of them. When his plates were nearly clean, G'regg faked an adoring smile at G'raden.

"Oh, you're my hero, G'raden!" he swooned.

G'raden grabbed the big man by the front of his tunic. "Stop that!"

B'nor put both hands on G'radens shoulders and leaned close to one ear. "You're my hero, too, G'raden."

G'raden let loose of G'reggs' tunic, grinned and turned back to finish cleaning his plates. "If I weren't so hungry, I'd smash your heads together, right here and now."

The older 'brothers' slapped 'little brother' on the back as they said in unison, "That's my man!" All three of them laughed.

T'men smiled and shook his head. He still had a lot to learn about the people in this weyr.

* * *

Well, that's it for now.

Chapter 3 will start moving faster and Chapter 4 will get a little more exciting.

Thanks for sticking around and please let me know what you think.


	3. I did what?

A dragon named Normond? Read on, please. The answer is about half way through.

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey:

I gratefully acknowledge your ownership of the world of Pern, its' dragons and other creatures,

and all the persons you have created to thrill all of us hope and peace starved Earthlings.

I also promise to you, in sight of all who witness this feeble attempt at embellishment,

that I will not ever ask for or accept so much as a quarter-mark for any of my attempts

at filling in some of the blanks you so kindly left for us to explore.

* * *

**Benden Weyr – The Next Day**

Bronze dragon Normond tried to wake his rider gently. _G'raden, my dear friend._ There was no response. Normond turned around on the ledge of their shared weyr and peered into the dark sleeping chamber illuminated only by the blue-green glow of his own large eyes. His tall, bulky rider lay on his back with arms and legs sprawled in all directions. A lightweight blanket lay across his hips. _G'raden? Please wake up, dear heart._ The riders' head turned toward the ledge, but his eyes remained closed. Normond waited. Seeing no other movement and feeling no attempt at mental contact, the dragon moved to one side of his slightly cramped ledge, extended one wing as far as the space would allow, and began fanning the cool pre-dawn air into the sleeping chamber. The large man rolled away from the breeze, pulling his blanket along with him. The blue-green glow in the room developed tinges of orange. Normond folded his wing to his side, drew in a full, deep breath and aimed a strong blast at his life-mate. The blanket flew up and over the rider and onto the floor. The riders' arms and legs flailed, reaching for the flying blanket, resulting in a loud thud and a grunt as he landed on the floor. The glow in the room was once again blue-green. Normond tucked his muzzle to his chest and waited.

G'raden fumbled to kneel at the side of his bed. All he could see in the dark were two large, whirling blue-green lights. "What the . . ."

Normond forced a loud and cheerful thought at his companion. _Good Morning, G'raden!_

"Normond?" G'raden shook his head to clear his deep-sleep induced fogginess. "It's dark outside!" He crawled back onto his bed and lay face down.

_Not for long. The eastern sky is already showing pink!_ When his rider only grunted, he got to the point. _G'raden, you're needed in the healer hall._

A large head turned on the pillow toward the dragon on the ledge. "Why?"

_Mara is having bad dreams again. The numbweed is wearing off and she isn't hearing us._

G'raden rolled to sit on the edge of his bed, rubbing his face. "Where's the healer?"

_We don't know. She stopped reading some time ago._

The large rider stood now, and stretched his arms over his head, muscles rippling all along his tall frame, causing pops along his spine and in his knees and hips. "Why didn't you wake me, love?"

Red flashes appeared among the blue and green glows of Normonds eyes. _I tried, G'raden._

G'raden leaned forward and touched the floor with his hands. He stood straight, yawned and walked with only a few wobbles to his beloved bronze dragon. "Of course you did!" He wrapped heavily muscled arms around the neck of the bronze, hugged not too tightly and rocked slightly. "I'm sorry, love of my life."

The room was now awash with a blue and green glow. _You were exhausted, dear one! We talked to her as long as she heard us._

G'raden gently rubbed his dragons' eye ridges and smiled. "You are a very sweet, very handsome bronze dragon, Normond." He kissed one eye ridge and gently slapped one cheek before moving away to dress. "I'll just go see what's going on."

G'raden pulled his trousers and vest from a set of wall hooks and lay each on his bed. He selected a clean tunic and clean socks from a chest at the foot of his bed. He pulled on his trousers and sat on the bed to don the socks. "How long since she stopped hearing you, Normond?"

_As long as it took me to wake you, my dear._

G'raden shook his head as he pulled on and fastened his boots. He stood and slipped the tunic over his head, and tucked it into his trousers. As he shrugged his riding vest over his massive arms, Normond huffed once.

_You are a very sweet and very handsome bronze dragonrider, my love._

As the rider fastened his vest, he blushed and smiled. "Ahhh, stop it, now!"

Normond let out several very short huffs as G'raden walked quickly from the room.

- - - - -

Bronze Dragonrider G'raden was running when he entered the quite healer hall. He stopped at the entrance to the sick room housing Mara, leaned forward, hands on knees and drew several deep breaths. When his breathing had slowed, he stood up and walked very quietly into the room.

As he entered, he noticed how much he had missed the day before. The lighting was dim, but straight ahead he could make out tall glass-front cabinets along the right wall. On the short wall at the end of the room was a large, currently covered window, set just low enough that a person sitting could see outside. Just to the left of the entrance was another tall cabinet with solid doors, effectively creating an alcove at the entrance – a place where someone could be in the room without seeing, or being seen by, the patient. G'raden stepped quietly out of the alcove and looked to his left where the patients' bed sat, head against the wall on the left side of the room.

Mara lay uncomfortably in the bed, muscles trying unsuccessfully to move, barely audible moans escaping her tortured mouth. Loralin, the visiting journeyman healer, was slumped in a chair, her knees on the side of the bed the only thing keeping her from sliding to the floor. A book lay open across her shapely young chest as her arms dangled to either side. Her head was resting awkwardly on the wooden back of the chair.

G'raden walked to the healer. He carefully removed the book and placed it reverently on the small table nearby. He cradled her head in his large right hand as he took her arm in his left. When she jerked, his right hand caught the brunt of the blow that would have struck the back of her head. He smiled at the sleep confused healer.

Loralin blinked with tired and sleep-filled eyes. "Ah, G'raden!" As she sat forward, the large hand of the rider ran slowly down her spine, causing a tingling sensation in the muscles of her back. She arched involuntarily in response, pulling in a deep breath. She closed her eyes and rolled her neck from side to side. When she opened her eyes, a very large, blushing face smiled at her. "Oooo! G'raden!" Her voice had lowered a few notes. She smiled as his head tilted slightly and his blush deepened mightily. Then she remembered where she was. She put her hand over the large, gentle hand on her arm and frowned. "Oh, G'raden. I fell asleep!" As she tried to stand on nearly numb legs, G'raden held her steady, one hand still holding her arm and the other around her waist. As she wobbled, his hip steadied hers. As his right hand moved to the right side of her hips, she felt a tingling sensation radiate through both hips and down both legs. She was now able to stand on her own. She looked up at the rider, who was currently imitating a red-fruit, with her eyebrows raised. "Thank you, G'raden!" She studied the man as he let loose of her and backed away, red face staring at the floor.

Loralin reached for a jar of numbweed and started applying it to Maras' face. She turned tear-filled eyes to the big man standing near the foot of the bed. "Oh, G'raden, I'm so sorry!"

G'raden smiled. "She hasn't been this way for long." He paused. "And the dragons talked to her after you fell asleep." He frowned as he decided to not tell her how the pain kept her from hearing them anymore.

Loralin saw the frown and knew there was more. She clamped her eyes closed as she tried to close out the possibilities. Then she made a decision. "G'raden. Come over here." She moved the chair to near center of the bed. When the big man had moved closer, she asked "Can you tell me where she hurts most?"

G'raden shrugged his shoulders and nodded. "If I can touch her."

Loralin took his arm and pulled him closer. "Sit here." When he sat, she instinctively put a hand on each of his shoulders to help him relax. When he looked up at her and then at one of her hands, she patted his shoulders and moved aside.

The healer watched as G'raden leaned forward and very gently lifted Maras' left hand. He moved his left hand underneath and carefully lowered hers. He moved his hand only slightly to obtain maximum contact. His fingers were cupped, but did not touch the bruised and swollen hand laying on his. He closed his eyes and then he tensed up, and started squirming, and finally let out a slight moan. The weyrs' Master Healer stepped into the room, but Loralins' signal stopped him in the entrance. "G'raden?" she asked.

"Oh, it hurts."

"Where does it hurt most, G'raden?" When his head twitched and bowed forward, she guessed that he was embarrassed. "Between her legs, G'raden?"

He nodded. "And inside." He squirmed more and moaned.

"In her belly?"

His head bowed lower and he shrugged his shoulders. He spoke quietly enough that she had to lean closer to hear. "Umm . . . where a man would go."

Loralin knelt beside him, careful not to touch. "Anywhere else, G'raden?"

He shook his head and grimaced. "That's the worst."

Loralin carefully, but firmly, removed G'radens' hand from under Maras'. She pulled that arm and his other toward her and watched as the bronze rider returned to feeling only himself. When he saw her and started to blush, she stood up, took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. "Thank you very much, G'raden." When he nodded, she gave him her instructions. "You leave us for a while. We'll start with the worst spots and then get her covered with numbweed again. All right?"

G'raden nodded and tried to stand, but his legs were weak. He grabbed the back of the chair and found Loralin wrapped around his waist with one hand on his chest.

"Whoa! That really takes it out of you, doesn't it?"

The massive bronze rider smiled weakly. The master healer was already at the cabinets stirring a restorative preparation. "Take him to the hallway" he ordered Loralin. As she helped G'raden to the hall, the master healer followed with a glass and the chair.

When the dragonrider was settled in the hallway, the master healer ordered the journeyman back to their 'first' patient. He helped the rider down the entire glass of fowl tasting liquid and then watched. The riders' color returned and he began working his shoulder and back muscles and then smiled at the healer.

"Feeling better, Bronze Rider G'raden?"

G'raden grinned and nodded. "Thank you Master Healer!"

The healer put his hands on G'radens knees and leaned toward the smiling face. "How long have you been able to do that, G'raden?"

G'radens' eyes fell to the healers' hands and he shrugged. "Always."

The healer squeezed G'radens' knees and smiled. "You should be in the healer hall, G'raden!"

G'raden sat back quickly and shook his head side to side, eyes wide. "I don't like it!"

The healer leaned away, hands still on the dragonriders' knees. "All right, G'raden." He patted the sides of G'radens knees before standing. "I can understand that." When the rider looked up, the healer smiled and tapped the side of his head. "Just a thought!"

"I like to help." G'raden scrubbed at his face with his hands. "But I can't do this every day."

The healer pulled G'radens' hands away from his face and smiled sincerely. "It's all right, G'raden. I won't ask you to help . . . unless I just can't figure it out, all right?"

"I like to help." After studying the healers' eyes, he almost pleaded. "Please don't tell anyone."

"I promise, G'raden. This is our secret." When G'raden nodded, the healer changed the subject. "Besides, you're already a mighty fine bronze dragonrider. You and Normond are needed elsewhere, right?" When G'radens' chest began to puff up, the healer let go of his hands, smiled and stood up. Then he crossed his arms and gave stern instructions. "Now, Dragon Rider G'raden, you go break your fast so you'll be ready for this fine day!"

G'raden stood and nodded sharply. "Yes, Master Healer." Then he hesitated and looked toward the sickroom entrance.

The healer took G'raden by the arm and turned him in the right direction. "We'll take care of her, lad. By the time you eat your fill, she should be ready for a visitor." G'raden smiled uncertainly. "If you should see Lady Lessa, will you tell her the same?"

"Yes, Master Healer. I'll tell Lady Lessa."

Master Healer watched the big man as he left the hall. He sighed, shook his head and then returned to the sick room.

- - - - -

In the dining hall, T'men was still trying to get a feel for his new weyr. He now knew that G'regg and B'nor had 'adopted' G'raden before they had each impressed bronze dragons from the same clutch, but he felt the need to know more.

"G'regg." When the big rider turned raised eyebrows to him, he continued. "How . . ." he tried again "Why . . ."

"Spit it out, man!" G'reggs' eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Normond?" he emphasized the 'd' at the end of the bronze dragons' name.

G'regg and B'nor both laughed. B'nor started their answer. "When G'raden was younger, he didn't speak near as well as he does now." G'regg and B'nor laughed again.

G'regg took up the explanation. "When our little brother tried to announce his new life-mates' name, he bit his own tongue."

B'nor laughed at the memory. "He had blood running down his chin even while all aglow with impression."

"And then, suddenly, he announced . . ."

G'regg and B'nor said in unison, both with loving remembrance "NO, his name is Normond!"

G'regg was almost in tears. "That little bronze dragon," he took a deep breath to steady himself, "changed his own name so our G'raden wouldn't bite his tongue again."

B'nor sniffed and then glared at T'men. "You just try to tell me that isn't one very special bronze dragon!"

T'men raised both hands in defeat. "I wouldn't dare even suggest anything of the sort!"

G'regg and B'nor both cleared their throats several times as they wiped their faces with their sleeves.

T'men was speechless and turned to look around the dining hall. He was first to see G'raden enter the hall. He cleared his throat and addressed his new friends. "Speaking of 'little brother'. . ." He smiled when the two burly bronze riders began grunting at each other.

G'raden helped himself to a plate of boiled grains, strips of fried meat, and a large helping of fried tubers. On his way across the hall to his usual place, he looked toward the Weyrleaders' table. Weyrleader F'lar and Weyrwoman Lessa seemed to be having a serious discussion with the Weyr Harper. When Weyrwoman Lessa nodded at G'raden, he blushed, smiled and nodded back, and decided that they should probably remain undisturbed for a little while.

Bronze Rider G'regg studied his friend as he approached. Something wasn't right. G'regg moved down one chair, leaving the customary place for G'raden between his two older 'brothers'. G'regg really liked that term – it was so . . . endearing – in a manly sort of way – it fit. He directed a grateful nod past B'nor to T'men who, of course, had no idea why he was nodding, and then winked, just for fun, which caused a slight frown from his new 'brother'. G'regg grinned mischievously as he pulled out the chair meant for G'raden. "Have a seat, little brother."

When G'raden, obviously preoccupied, didn't flinch at the still new term of endearment, G'regg knew something was wrong. "You look tired, G'raden."

B'nor added "Didn't you sleep well?"

T'men watched with interest as G'raden took his time answering. He never looked at G'regg, B'nor or T'men as he sat his plate on the table, sat down, rearranged his chair just so, moved his plate to a more appropriate position, nodded thanks to the kitchen drudge who brought him a tall glass of cold spring water and spooned up some boiled grain before seeming to remember that he had been asked a question. "I went to the healer hall." He removed the grain from the spoon with apparent immense appreciation.

T'men noticed that G'regg, who was watching G'raden with extraordinary concentration, seemed to be getting angry. B'nor, sitting closest to T'men, had stiffened significantly.

G'regg waited for G'raden to swallow before asking gruffly "Did you . . ." he was cut off by the usually quite 'little brother'.

"My choice!" G'raden seemed equally angry at G'regg.

"Did the healer see?" B'nor almost whispered.

G'raden, about to down another spoon of grain, nodded once.

B'nor put a hand on G'radens' shoulder, shook his head and said quietly, "Ah, G'raden."

"I'll take care of this." G'regg stood quickly.

G'raden dropped his spoon and grabbed G'reggs' arm. "I took care of it." The two large men glared at each other for several heartbeats before G'raden tugged at his friends' arm. "Sit!" When his friend grudgingly sat down, G'raden ordered "Eat!"

T'men watched as B'nor relaxed and G'regg continued to glare at G'raden, but now with a mischievous twinkle in his scowling eyes. T'men cleared his throat loudly as Weyrwoman Lessa approached the group. He couldn't suppress a smile as G'reggs' scowl shifted suddenly to pure innocence. All four bronze dragonriders stood respectfully when Lessa reached the table.

"Riders." Lessa nodded at each of the tall men. They each, in turn, returned her nod. "Please take your seats." When they were seated, she turned to G'raden. "Bronze Rider G'raden."

"Yes, Lady Lessa."

"How is . . . your charge this morning?"

G'raden took a deep breath, not sure just what to tell her. "Healer says . . . she'll be ready for visitors . . . as soon as I eat."

Lessa looked at his nearly full plate and the boiled grain splashed on the table. "You don't seem to be in a big hurry to eat."

G'raden blushed and said "Uh, we were talking, Lady Lessa." G'regg and B'nor both donned quick, innocently charming smiles.

"I see" said Lessa. "You don't expect our drudges to clean up that mess, do you, G'raden?"

G'raden looked down at the table and at the grain he didn't know had splashed from his spoon. "No, Lady Lessa!" He quickly used one massive hand to scrape the mess into his other hand and then, unsure what to do with it, kept that hand under the table.

"Good." She raised her eyebrows at him until he scraped the mess onto the side of his plate. "You know that we fly thread after the mid-day meal, don't you?"

"Yes, Lady Lessa!"

"And you'll be ready?"

G'raden nearly snapped at her. "Yes, Lady Lessa!"

"Good. You'll be expected to join in preparations within the next candle mark, understood?"

Realizing he was being given some time to tend to 'his charge', he smiled. "Yes, Lady Lessa!"

"And you three," Lessa looked sternly at each of the three remaining riders, "will report for duty as soon as you finish your meal, understood?"

All three barked in unison "Yes, Lady Lessa!"

"Good." She turned sharply and walked toward the middle of the hall, where her weyrmate waited.

T'men smiled to himself when he noticed a smile overtake his Weyrwomans' stern countenance after turning. He watched as she took the Weyrleaders' extended hand. He sighed as they spoke quietly to each other and then walked hand-in-hand from the dining hall.

- - - - -

Lessa entered the sickroom while F'lar waited just outside the entrance. The Masterhealer and two female apprentices were standing near the window at the far end of the room. Mara was seated in a well padded chair where she was observing dragons and riders in the bowl of the crater. Lessa signaled F'lar that is was safe to enter. The Masterhealer smiled and waved the pair to the end of the room as the apprentices left. He positioned two chairs where they would be easily visible from the padded chair and spoke to Mara. "You have visitors."

Lessa sat down in the chair closest to Mara and saw that she seemed mesmerized by her view of the bowl. "Mara? Do you remember me?"

Mara turned wide, unsteady eyes to Lessa. Her head wobbled as if she had taken too much wine. She smiled broadly – the swelling in her face had diminished somewhat. "Lady Lessa." She spoke slowly, but clearly.

Lessa looked to the healer. He smiled apologetically. "I only gave her half a dose of fellis, but it seems to be working quite well. She shouldn't fall asleep, but I don't think she'll notice if you step on her toes." Lessa smiled and turned back to Mara.

Mara laughed weakly. "I thought I was dreaming." She turned back to the window. "I must still be dreaming."

Lessa put a hand on one of Maras' to get her attention. The swelling in her hands had gone down as well, but the scrapes and bruises still looked quite painful. "You are not dreaming, dear. It's the fellis."

Mara nodded in the same way a drunk might. "Fellis is good!"

Lessa laughed. "It is, isn't it." She put her other hand out to motion F'lar to join them. "I brought someone else who wants to meet you." F'lar took her hand and sat in the other chair.

Maras' eyes followed Lessas' arm to her hand and the hand clasping it and then followed that arm up to a very tall and handsome smiling man. Her smile brightened. "It's an honor to meet you, Weyrleader F'lar."

F'lar, only slightly surprised, asked gently "How did you know who I was?"

Mara laughed. "Who else would dare hold Lady Lessas' hand like that?" Her head bobbed as she directed her gaze at their joined hands. "And we've met before." She returned her eyes to his face. "You are just as handsome as you were then. But I thought you were taller."

Both Lessa and F'lar laughed. Mara frowned and moved an unsteady hand to cover her mouth. "Oh," she said "fellis isn't all good!" When the two laughed again, she added "My apologies, Weyrleader F'lar."

Lessa gently patted Maras' hand. "Honesty is always good, Mara."

F'lar was curious. "I usually remember peoples' faces, but I can't place where we might have met."

Mara brightened again. "You and Mnementh accompanied Portoth and . . . I don't remember his name."

F'lars' jaw lowered. "That was twenty turns ago!"

"Twenty one, actually. It was the day after spring equinox." She sighed. "The proudest day of my life."

F'lar explained to Lessa. "We were 'searching'." and then he looked again at Mara. "Now I remember that smile! You had a small child on one hip and an older boy at your side."

Mara frowned at the memory. "Da had them convinced that dragons would eat small children."

Both F'lar and Lessa grunted disapproval at such a notion. F'lar gently tapped Maras' knee to bring her back from an apparently uncomfortable memory. "You were, what, fourteen turns then?"

Mara turned a large smile at him. "Ha! I was ten!" she declared as if she had won a bet of some kind. Then her smile twisted away as her gaze shifted again into a space between her visitors. "I guess I've always been kind of big."

F'lar and Lessa exchanged meaningful glances. Lessa patted Maras' hand to bring her back and F'lar continued the conversation. "You didn't want to come with us."

"Oh, I wanted to. I really wanted to. But I couldn't leave my brothers."

"We offered to take them along." He looked at Lessa. "Mnementh and Portoth both believed she had high potential."

Mara was staring sadly at something between Lessa and F'lars' heads. "My Da could be really mean to my brothers."

F'lar slapped and then rubbed one side of his jaw. "He wasn't very kind to this dragonrider, either!" The slap served well to draw her eyes back to his face.

"Oh, he hit you! I forgot about that." She reached her free hand toward him, but pulled it back quickly. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

F'lar laughed. "I hold no grudges, Mara."

When her lovers' charming gaze had calmed Mara somewhat, Lessa took over the questioning. "Mara, I need to know something, dear." Lessa smiled knowingly as the womans' wobbly head seemed to jerk with the effort of changing her focus. When Mara nodded, she continued. "Do you remember calling the dragons yesterday?"

"I would never call a dragon!" Mara was genuinely shocked. "I have no right!"

_She was nearly senseless when she called out._ Ramoth spoke to all three.

Maras' unspoken question provoked Lessa to explain. "That's my dear Queen Ramoth." Pride radiated from her lovely face.

Mara gasped. She shook her head slowly and opened her mouth as if to speak, but thought better of it and clamped her mouth shut. When she finally spoke, it was quietly and apologetically. "I don't remember."

Lessa noticed the near denial and greatly approved of the wisdom this woman had just demonstrated by choosing not to refute the word of a queen dragon. "Ramoth, dear, do you remember her words?"

_I have an excellent memory, dear heart. She said "Oh, mighty dragons of Pern! Help me!"_

Mara gasped, recognizing the phrase as one she might well have used, put a fist to her forehead and lowered her head. "Oh, I'm sorry!" She put her other fist to her forehead and shook her head back and forth and repeated "I'm so sorry!"

Lessa placed a hand on her knee. "Mara, it's all right!" She had to repeat herself several times before Mara seemed to hear. She patted Maras' knee. "Mara, look at me!" she ordered. When Mara looked up, she tried to console her. "Mara, you were in trouble and you called to those who you knew would hear. It's all right, understood?" When Mara nodded reluctantly, she continued. "You have a very strong talent for hearing and speaking to dragons. Ramoth tells me that they all heard you yesterday."

Maras' shock seemed to deepen. "All?"

Lessa nodded. "Every single dragon on Pern heard you call to them."

Mara shook her head and seemed about to burst into tears. "I'm sorry."

Lessa smiled and squeezed her knee. "Mara, with your talent, we would be honored if you would stay here with us. We can train you to control your talent and use it for the benefit of all the dragons and all the riders." She tapped her temple. "I know a few tricks to help you control it."

Mara stared at Lessa for several heartbeats. Lessa feared she might be sleeping with her eyes open, until she finally said "Are you sure I'm not dreaming?"

Lessa and F'lar both laughed which brought a smile to Maras' tear streaked face. "If I'm not dreaming, then I would be oh so honored to stay here at Benden Weyr. But if I am still dreaming, please don't let me wake up!" Lady Lessas' beautiful smile transfixed Mara so totally that she didn't even notice the small woman stand up in front of her.

Lessa gently placed her hands on either side of the still swollen, grinning face and spoke sternly. "You, Mara, are not dreaming, and I have to leave to make some arrangements. All right?"

Tears threatening to escape again, Mara simply nodded at the luminescent Lady Lessa. As the lady turned and walked away with her man in tow, Mara wondered if the fellis, or her own tears, had affected that glow.

_No, dear. She is quite pleased with your decision to stay with us. As am I._

Mara closed her eyes and projected her most sincere appreciation and joy. _Oh, thank you, Queen Ramoth!_

_Welcome to our home, Mara._ A barrage of draconic welcomes surrounded her.

When G'raden entered the room, he saw Mara sitting near the window. But she seemed to be looking everywhere but out the window. She smiled radiantly as her head turned up and right and then left and then up and forward. G'raden questioned his dragon _Normond?_

_Queen Ramoth has just welcomed her to Benden Weyr. We are extending our welcomes as well._

G'raden smiled his understanding. _I see. Thank you, sweet heart._

He moved closer before saying not too loudly, "Mara?"

When her bobbing head turned in his direction, her smile had faded a bit. G'raden moved a bit closer, skirting the wall to avoid startling her. "May I sit?"

Mara stared for a few heartbeats before answering. "Please!" She tried to nod at the chairs, but her head kept nodding as G'raden sat down. She finally shook her head and laid it back on the chair facing the window. "Fellis isn't all good." She seemed to be talking to herself.

G'raden smiled. "Healer says you feel better today."

She turned to him as if surprised. "Yes, much better."

"I understand that you . . . have been asked to stay?" He blushed slightly.

"Yesss." Mara brightened for a few heartbeats and then looked out the window again.

G'raden grinned as he realized that she was about to fall asleep. So he followed her gaze and began describing what was happening in the bowl of Benden Weyr.

Mara listened as she tried to keep her eyes open. This man had a wonderful voice. It was so deep, bass she was sure, and melodic, when he didn't stutter, and so soothing. She tried to stay awake to here more of that beautiful, calming voice. But failed.

Master Healer tapped G'raden on the shoulder, smiling. "Will you help us get her to bed?"

G'raden smiled back at the healer. "I like to help." He moved to the side of Maras' chair, raised a limp arm up and over his shoulder, and lifted her ever so gently into his arms. As he turned toward the bed, he said "Make way, please."

Mara gasped and looked into his eyes. "You! You carried me out of Keroon!"

G'raden smiled at her. "Yes . . . and no! I carried you to Normond and he carried us here."

When he laid her on the bed, she was sound asleep and smiling.

- - - - -

G'raden was grinning like a weyr-child who had just managed to sneak out of the kitchen undetected with a sweet treat. T'men smiled, watching as 'little brother' walked toward the stack of firestone sacks where he and the 'other brothers' stood talking. He noticed G'regg grinning mischievously at him, which made him a little nervous. He then watched as G'regg and B'nor smacked each others' arms before turning to greet G'raden.

"Hey, little brother!" G'regg started the teasing. "How's she doin?"

Still grinning, G'raden said simply, "Ahh, she'll be fine."

"Ah, good!" said B'nor.

And then both 'big brothers' turned toward T'men. G'regg opened. "So, T'men!"

T'men, not quite certain he wanted to see what these brothers had in mind, simply raised his eyebrows.

B'nor picked up the taunt. "How'd you come to be 'transferred' to Benden Weyr?"

T'men hadn't been ready for this. "Umm."

G'raden, still grinning, blushed now. "A woman!"

T'men was shocked. He had told no one why he had requested this transfer, not even his last Weyrleader. So how did G'raden . . .

G'regg slapped T'men on the arm. "Did she kick you out?"

B'nor added, "Probably for never talking to her."

The three brothers laughed at T'mens' shocked bemusement.

T'men was about to speak when G'regg slapped him again. "Spit it out, man!"

T'men laughed at this repeated taunt. "Actually, she chose another man – a friend."

The two older brothers both placed their hands over their hearts and said in unison. "Oh, that hurts!"

"Is she happy?" G'raden still grinned.

T'men thought about it and had to answer in the affirmative. "Yes, she seems to be."

"Then be happy for her." G'raden offered a handshake, and the confused T'men accepted. "Someone else will come for you."

T'men nodded at the 'simple' brother. As the three brothers each hefted sacks of firestone, T'men took a deep breath and realized, with relief and now growing confusion, that his chest didn't feel as constricted as it had constantly since that day when she broke his heart. He watched the brothers and then laughed. "Be happy for her!" He took another deep, freeing breath and then hefted his own sack of firestone.

* * *

So, now can you forgive my 'irreverence'?

I must admit, that it didn't come to me until you asked.

So, thank you!

Please review! ? ! Please?


	4. He sold me!

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey:

Thank you for allowing me to play with your property!

* * *

**Benden Weyr – After Thread **

When the squadron returned from fighting thread, most fighting pairs flew straight to their weyrs to remove riding harnesses and riding gear. Dragons would then fly to the lake, take a quick dip to rinse off most of the charred thread and firestone ash, and then either fly to the ridge or lounge on the sun-baked sands of the bowl to wait for their riders. Riders would then rejoin their dragons for a full scale bath followed by a generous application of oil to the dragons' hides. Gold dragons were given the honor of bathing first, when the water was still fairly clean and clear, if they didn't choose to bathe in a nearby lake or stream.

Bronze Dragon Normond, carrying his life-mate G'raden leaning forward on his neck, landed gracefully on the ledge of their shared weyr. The dragon folded his wings and settled down into a crouch. The rider sat up straight, unfastened his safety straps, and slid down a shoulder to the rock ledge below. He walked toward Normonds' head as he removed his gloves and riding helmet. After placing them in his belt he hugged his dragons' neck. "I'm so proud of you Normond."

The large dragon pulled his muzzle in toward the riders' boots and moved his whole head back and forth, effectively rubbing the riders' entire back side. _We fought well today, my brave one._

The rider turned around and rubbed the dragons' cheeks and behind his jowls, allowing the dragon to rub his chest. "We always fight well, my love." He reached up and rubbed behind Normonds' eyes. "Do you want to bathe now or later, dear heart?"

_The days are long and warm. And I'm tired. The lake will be clearer closer to moon rise. And Mara is awake and alone._

G'raden patted Normonds' cheeks and slid from the comfort of his dragons' embrace. He began unfastening the riding harness. "Is she all right?"

Normond turned his slowly whirling blue eyes toward his beloved life-mate. _She still hurts, but not like before. She's standing now and saw our return. And she is very happy._

G'raden placed the riding harness reverently on the hooks just inside the ledge, performing a cursory inspection of each wher-hide strap, buckle and stitch at the same time. "If you want to bathe later, I'll go see her now."

_You had better bathe first, my smelly one._

G'raden turned away from the wall with a huge grin. "Look who calls who 'smelly'!" He gently elbowed his dragons' shoulder and then began massaging with the heels of his hands on the up stroke and spread fingers on the down stroke, up and down the length of the long, full shoulder muscles.

_Mmmm. Use that spicy smelling sand. I like that one._

"After I tend to you, my dear. Do you have any sore muscles this day?" He shifted his efforts to the muscles along Normonds' neck, up near the back ridges.

_Mmmmm. None that the warm sun won't relieve._ The large bronze stretched his neck and laid his head on the floor, allowing his rider to work on both sides of his neck at the same time. When G'raden had worked his way up to the top of his head, Normond had to ask, _Why are you nervous, G'raden?_

The tall rider stood straight up in shock. "Nervous?" He closed his eyes for a heartbeat and then scowled briefly. "Ahh." He moved forward of his life-mates head, still laying on the cool rock floor and looked lovingly at the beautiful glowing blue-green orbs that watched him. "She learned last evening that you and I brought her here from Keroon."

_And?_

G'raden laughed. "There was some fear in that learning."

Normond lifted his head, tucking his muzzle to the floor, until his eyes were level with his riders'. _And that surprises you, my big, tall, strong sweetheart?_

The tall, blushing sweetheart laughed again. "I guess it shouldn't, huh?"

A large muzzle gently poked the man in the belly. _Wear that lightweight, loose tunic. You don't sweat as much when you wear that one._

The rider caressed the head sticking out of his belly and smiled. "Should I try that new powder I bought at gather?"

_Does it have a smell? You don't want it to interfere with the spicy sand._ He pushed his rider away with his muzzle. _Go now. Before the sun sets._

"All right! All right." He grinned at his dragon as he backed away and then turned toward the necessary room. _Before the sun sets._ They hadn't even had evening meal, yet, and this being the early part of summer, days were far longer that nights! _What a joker you are._

_I'll be in the lake, my spicy one._ He gave his rider several short quick huffs, before turning and launching from the ledge.

As G'raden lounged in water heated by the volcano below the weyr in a tub carved from the stone of the mountain, he wondered at his dragons' intentions. He tended to reserve use of his 'spicy' scrubbing sand for those times when the green dragons were about to fly, or for evenings of dancing when he hoped to share his bed afterwards with one of the lovely women of the weyr. All the women of the weyr seemed to like his spicy sand, but Mara? Surely, she would have no such interests for some time. Ah, well, it wouldn't hurt to see how she might react, and he would definitely prefer smelling 'spicy' to smelling of charred thread and firestone ash. As he began scrubbing every inch of his body, he wondered how long his current supply would last if started using it every day.

_Don't forget to scrub between your toes._ Normond seemed to be in a very good mood.

G'raden laughed as he dipped a finger in the sand to follow his dragons' instructions.

- - -

As a tall, bulky Bronze Dragonrider walked toward the healer hall, he didn't notice as several women he had just passed turned around on tip toes to smile at him. He also didn't notice when the men he passed seemed to scowl and/or grunt. But when he entered the hallway, a young woman, quite distracted by a chart in her hands, walked right into him. He grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling. As she backed away, her jaw dropped as she lowered her chart. She eyed the big man quite provocatively and not all together politely. When she finally reached his deeply blushing face, she smiled at him.

"Are you G'raden?" The big, smiling, red-faced man could only nod. She had embarrassed him, but was not at all apologetic. "Will you be at evening meal?"

The big dragonrider looked toward Maras' room and then shrugged. "Maybe." He kept his eyes on her face, not wishing to give her any false hopes. He knew that women liked him, at least in their beds. It wasn't something he took any measure of pride in – it was just a fact - one that he didn't totally understand, but did greatly appreciate. The young woman began shimmying, trying to force his eyes lower.

When her little dance failed to achieve her goal, she frowned playfully and laid her free hand on his forearm. "I hope you'll be there." She moved past him as if they were in a very tight doorway, rubbing her young, firm, ample breasts against his arm. When he turned with her, she shimmied again, drawing her slender fingers up his arm as she backed away. "I'll be watching for you."

G'raden raised his eyebrows, grinning and fighting to keep his eyes on her lovely young face. When she backed into the wall near the doorway, he laughed and turned back toward his original destination. _Normond, what are you up to, my devious one?_ His dragon didn't respond with words, but G'raden was sure he heard three short huffs.

Still grinning, Bronze Rider G'raden entered the alcove of Maras' sickroom. He was surprised to see her standing at the other end of the room, looking out the window and stretching her arms above her head. He smiled at seeing her up and moving, and then grimaced as he heard, even from this distance, the popping in her arms, shoulders and back. He rapped his knuckles on the cabinet that formed the alcove to announce his presence.

Mara turned a little too quickly, but was pleased with herself for recovering quickly. She was surprised at having a visitor so soon after the Masterhealer left, and worried that he had returned to find her once again 'pushing herself too hard'. She had been angry with him and was ashamed at her rudeness to the very kind, but, in her opinion, overcautious healer. The sight of the tall, handsome bronze rider, who she now knew had rescued her, brought a smile to her face and a touch of fear to her heart, but she wasn't quite sure why. "Bronze Rider G'raden! Come in, please!"

G'raden walked in cautiously, staying near the wall, worried about frightening her. It had barely been a day since he (the dragons, he corrected himself) found her at Keroon being attacked in that old stable. Either she didn't remember what had happened, he thought as he watched her face carefully, or she was one extremely resilient woman.

_She doesn't remember._

The big man stopped about halfway into the room. Maras' brow furrowed as she watched him lean back and then, apparently thinking better of putting any weight against the glass cabinets, stand up straight again. "Are you afraid of me?" she asked, half teasing.

G'raden laughed and blushed. "Oh, no. I'm not afraid of you." He hesitated. "But I am afraid that you might be afraid of me."

Smiling through confusion, Mara asked simply, "Why?"

"Do you remember what happened yesterday?"

"I met Weyrleader F'lar, and Weyrwoman Lessa asked me to stay at Benden Weyr. Why?"

G'raden laughed slightly. "That was this morning, Mara." He hesitated again. "What's the last thing you remember before that?"

Mara thought for a few heartbeats, shaking her head. "Unloading a ship at the harbor."

"Do you remember how you got here?"

"You and Normond brought me."

"Do you remember that?"

"No. You told me. What happened, G'raden?"

His eyes widened and seemed to search every corner of the room for words. "You were attacked . . . by a group of men . . . They hurt you."

"I don't remember." She shook her head and turned to the window.

"That's all right."

_The sooner she remembers, the sooner she can heal fully._

"You will when you're ready."

She turned back to face him. "Do I want to remember?"

"Likely not. But we can't just forget our past, good or bad." When she smiled slightly, he decided to change the subject somewhat. "You looked angry when you first saw me."

Mara laughed at him. "I wasn't angry at you. The healer had just been here and wants me to sleep some more."

He grinned, having had some experience with this healer. "And you don't want to sleep?"

She shrugged her shoulders and winced. "Sore muscles don't need sleep – they need to be worked. And I feel like every joint in my body's been pulled out of place. Sleep won't help that either."

He smiled and put his hands up in front, miming massage. "I could help work out the soreness."

Her eyes laughed as she said dubiously, "Your arms aren't long enough."

She watched the rider walk slowly toward her and smiled at his caution. As he reached a spot about two paces from her, she took a deep breath through her nose, closed her eyes, and smiled. "Mmm." She opened her eyes. "What's that scent you're wearing?"

He blushed profusely. "Umm, it's a scrubbing sand. Do you like it?"

"Yes, it reminds me of my mother."

His head snapped back as his eyebrows shot up. "Your mother wore this scent?" _Normond?_

"No, silly! That's a mans' scent! But she did make a bathing sand like that for my father."

"Ohh. Did she teach you how to make it?"

"No. I was six turns when she died. But I always found that scent to be . . . so comforting."

He smiled and raised his hands again, flexing his fingers. "Good. Maybe it will help you relax." She turned her back to him in response.

The tall, muscular, bronze dragonrider massaged the tall, large womans' shoulders gingerly. As he moved out and over to the tops of her arms, he was a bit surprised. "You have a lot of muscle!"

"I'm a dock worker!"

"You were a dock worker." He squeezed her arms and gently pulled up and back to rotate the collar bone. As he pulled her shoulders back, a popping sound came from near her spine. G'raden lifted again to begin another rotation, but she suddenly tensed up.

Her whole body tensed as she tried, at least in her mind, to escape. "What are you doing, Da?" G'raden let loose of her. She turned quickly, ducking as she backed away with both hands planted firmly on his chest, terror and shock masking her face.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked. On seeing the terror change to confusion, he added gently, "It's all right." He placed his hands over hers on his chest. "It's all right, Mara. You're safe here." She shook her head, eyes wide, seeing something other than a dragonrider in front of her. "Tell me what happened, Mara." Then she looked into his eyes. "Talking can make the hurt go away."

Mara stared into his big brown eyes, so full of caring, and then looked down at his large hands covering hers, so comforting, and she began, slowly, to tell what she remembered of the previous day. "We finished unloading the ship, and Da wanted to stop at the ale vendors'." She looked back into his eyes. "I didn't want to go, but he made me. He made me go inside with him." She looked back to his hands over hers. "He started talking real loud to the others, telling them who I was. And then he offered . . . to sell me to the highest bidder." Tears streaming down her face, she looked back into his eyes. "He sold me! How could he do that?"

He fought to control the anger in his voice. "He had no right!" When her elbows lowered, he reached out and pulled her to his chest, where she sobbed. "It's all right." He patted and rubbed her back. "It's done now. And you're safe here." He held her close and placed his chin lightly on top of her head. "It's done." As he looked out the window, he saw dozens of pairs of swirling angry eyes all looking his way.

_Uh oh,_ he directed at Normond.

_Lady Lessa should be . . . _The bronze dragon stopped when he heard through his rider that she had already arrived. He echoed his rider. _Uh oh._

Weyrwoman Lessa stomped across the room in waterlogged socks. The lighter weight clothing she had donned for washing her queen gold Ramoth, left absolutely no doubt, when wet like this, that she was indeed a fully grown woman. Rage oozed from her face up toward G'radens'.

When she opened her mouth to speak, the bronze rider shook his head once, openly, but quietly defying her. He held Mara a little tighter and, facing Lessa, spoke to Mara soothingly. "Your father had no right to sell you. But it's done, and you're safe now."

Lessas' eyes went wide with shock and began to tear up. She raised her chin at the bronze rider, and then reached up and squeezed his arm. Then she patted his arm and left, her anger returning, though for a different reason.

She met the Masterhealer near the alcove and motioned for him to follow her to the hallway. Once outside, the healer began regaling her with the wonderful rapidity this woman was going through all the phases necessary to heal, body and soul, from the trauma she had endured.

Lessa tried to listen, out of politeness if nothing else, but her anger finally overwhelmed her. She cut him off. "Do you have any idea what might have happened if she had remembered while the dragons were in the air fighting thread?"

The Masterhealer smiled at her, understanding her concern. "But she didn't, Weyrwoman! When the dragons took off to fight thread today, she woke up, went to that chair by the window, and went into some sort of . . . trance. She didn't seem to hear any of us. She even slapped our hands away when we touched her. And she really snapped at me when I tried to give her more fellis!"

Lessa needed confirmation. _Ramoth, dear._

_Yes, Lessa?_

_Did you hear or feel anything from Mara during fall today?_

There was a pause, as if the gold dragon was thinking. _No, dear. Nothing. She must have been sleeping._

Lessa relaxed somewhat. _Thank you, love._

She refocused on the Masterhealer and smiled apologetically. "I need to talk to her when you feel she's ready."

Masterhealer bowed slightly, smiling. "Of course, Weyrwoman!

- - -

In the bowl of Benden Weyr, Bronze Rider T'men had just finished making the rounds to check the status and condition of his wingleaders' riders and dragons, when he noticed angry dragon eyes all turning toward the healer hall.

_Reyoth? What is happening? _

_The woman, Mara, has remembered some of what happened yesterday._

T'men was not accustomed to his gentle bronze dragon sounding so angry. _And why are you all so angry, Reyoth?_

_Her father __sold__ her to the men who hurt her!_

Dragon and now angry rider bespoke each other at the same time. _No human has the right to sell another human!_

T'men walked slowly toward the weyr entrance. He thought to himself how good it was to be around so many people and dragons who so thoroughly understood that very important basic truth. And he thought to himself that he was going to fit in just fine in Benden Weyr.

* * *

Well, should I keep it going, or give it up?

Thanks to all of you who have been reading, and reviewing!


	5. Girl talk?

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey:

Thank you for allowing me to play with your property!

* * *

**Benden Weyr – Later the Same Day**

Weyrwoman Lessa, having been informed at evening meal that Mara was ready for visitors again, entered the alcove of the sickroom. Hearing laughter warmed her heart. Waiting for an opportunity to enter without interrupting kept her in the alcove.

At the other end of the room, Bronze Rider G'raden and Mara had just finished their evening meal. The trays with empty plates, bowls and glasses were stacked neatly on the floor to one side of the table. Mara was reaching for something in G'raden's hands. "What is that?"

The grinning bronze rider placed a small leather bound object on the table between them, keeping it covered with both of his large hands. "A book!" He opened his hands with a flourish.

Mara gasped. "I've never seen one!" She ran her hands over the textured leather and then her fingers over the embossed title, which the rider had placed in the proper direction for her to read. "The Ch . . . art . . . er of Pern?"

"'The Charter of Pern'" said the big rider, grinning. "Harper gave it to me. Printer Hall is making lots of them. For everyone on Pern."

Mara ran her fingers over the subtitle. "What are these words?"

G'raden didn't have to look, but hesitated somewhat and spoke very carefully. "'Annotated with . . . Historical References."

Mara looked into his big smiling brown eyes. "What does that mean?"

The big man picked up the small book and separated a small section of pages in the front. "This is the charter. Not very long. But there are . . . notes that refer to . . . pages later . . . to explain things." His eyes seemed to be searching the entire room for the words.

"You know these big words?"

G'raden blushed and pointed to his head. "Up here. But they . . . get stuck . . . sometimes lost before they get here." He pointed to his mouth. To change the subject he quickly added, "You talk like you were hold trained."

Mara laughed. "I listen a lot. When I was young, I worked sometimes in the Lord Holders' home. Until I got caught listening to the Harpers' lessons." She grimaced at the memory of that day. "And the dragons taught me a lot, too!"

Lessa smiled at the thought of dragons teaching someone to speak 'hold trained'. They more often 'spoke' in the same manner as their riders. But, most riders had been harper trained in one form or another since childhood.

Mara seemed transfixed with the sight of the book. "Will you read it to me?" she asked the rider.

G'raden laughed as he scooted his chair around the table closer to hers. He placed the book between them and opened it to the first page. "You can read some too!"

Lessa thought this would be a good time to interrupt, so wrapped her knuckles on the cabinet at the alcove and entered the room.

G'raden stood and affected a slight bow, blushing slightly. "Lady Lessa!"

Mara stood as well, but quite a bit slower. "Lady Lessa! Come in, please!"

The weyrwoman approached the pair, but kept her eyes on the tall bronze dragon rider. "Is that a book?" she asked him.

Mara, in her excitement, picked up the leather bound book and held it out to Lessa. "The Charter of Pern!"

Lessa smiled at her and then looked into the riders' eyes. "Do you know how to read, G'raden?"

G'raden blushed deeper and fought to keep his eyes aimed in the direction of his weyrwomans' face. "Better than I talk."

Lessa smiled apologetically at him and spoke softly. "I didn't know that, G'raden."

The big bulky bronze rider grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "Most don't. It's all right, Lady Lessa."

She noticed how hard he worked at maintaining eye contact and vowed to herself to never smack him again, at least not for that infraction. Her smile, though, shifted to a scowl as she watched the man in front of her. "Do you think, perhaps, that filthy bronze dragon of yours could use a bath?"

G'raden stiffened, wondering if she felt he had neglected his beautiful dragon. His eyes strayed, and he stiffened preparing for her smack. When it didn't come, he looked back at her now smiling face and relaxed a bit. "Yes, Lady Lessa."

"Then get to it, rider!" She reached up and smacked his arm, just for good measure.

The big rider grinned broadly at her. "Yes, Lady Lessa!" He turned to look at Mara before he left.

Mara couldn't resist asking the weyrwoman, "May I go out and watch?" When Lessa turned and studied her, she added, "Please, Lady Lessa?"

Lessa turned to G'raden, who had only moved a few steps toward the entrance, and grimaced at him. "You take her out and find a comfortable place for her to sit, where she won't get wet." She stooped and picked up the trays from the kitchen. "I'll take care of these and be out shortly."

G'raden moved to take the trays from her, but backed off when she nearly snarled at him. "I know where these belong! You have your orders, rider!"

G'raden grinned at her as she left the sickroom. "Yes, Lady Lessa!"

The weyrwoman soon found a drudge just outside the healer hall and passed off the trays to her with a smile and a thank you. When she turned back toward the bowl, she saw her rider and the Masterhealer faced off at each other. She moved quickly to intervene. "Is there a problem, Masterhealer?" She graced him with her most innocent of smiles.

Knowing that he had already been overruled, the Masterhealer tried his best to give a convincing argument. "She can't be outside, yet!" He wrung his hands as if they were waterlogged rags. "She's too weak, and she's . . ."

Lessa interrupted kindly, but firmly. "She's got not one, but two escorts. And if she gets too tired," she looked up at G'raden and then smiled again at the healer "I'm sure one of us can carry her back to her room."

Knowing he'd lost the battle, but still needing to vent his frustration, the healer turned on the bronze rider. "She is not to get wet, understood?"

G'raden stiffened, but smiled. "Yes, Masterhealer."

"And if she gets tired, you bring her back immediately, understood?"

"Yes, Masterhealer!"

The healer looked at his smiling patient and then turned to Lessa. "Well, then. I suppose it's all right, but I'll be watching!"

Lessa patted his wringing hands, smiling sweetly. "Thank you, Masterhealer."

The threesome walked slowly toward the lake, Mara holding G'radens proffered arm. Lessa stayed back just a step and listened as Mara marveled at each new thing she saw. She was surprised to hear G'raden talk almost non-stop about each new sighting. He must be extremely patient, she thought, switching topics as quickly as Mara would point at new items of interest. Lessa was also surprised to see that G'raden knew the names of each of the dragons Mara would point out. She was less surprised that each dragon said 'hello' to Mara as they passed, and Mara, very courteously, returned each greeting, using the dragons' name which G'raden would provide.

Lessa spotted a soft grassy area on the eastern edge of the bowl, halfway to the lake. She tapped G'radens' arm and pointed, grinning at his blush – he had forgotten that she was with them. G'raden gently helped Mara to sit on the ground comfortably, as he silently asked Normond to join the group.

Just as both women were seated, a large bronze dragon floated over their heads, turned a neat, tight circle, and landed about twenty paces away. He folded his wings gracefully, and seemed to bow before settling into a crouch.

Mara was beside herself with excitement. "Oh, Normond!" She turned, apologetically, to G'raden for permission to speak to his dragon. After the laughing rider nodded, she continued speaking to the bronze dragon before them. "Oh, Normond, you're so handsome!" The big bronze tucked his muzzle closer to his chest as if demonstrating modesty.

Lessa laughed at the false display. "Normond, I had no idea you could be such a show-off!"

_I have much to show off, Weyrwoman Lessa. _Normond bespoke all three in his audience.

Lessa affected disbelief. "All I see is a dirty hide!"

G'raden reached down and touched Maras' shoulder. "We'll be right back." He then nodded at Lessa. "Lady Lessa?"

Lessa smiled, but sounded gruff. "Go, rider!"

The big bronze rider spun around and ran toward his dragon. At the last possible moment, Normond extended his forearm and G'raden vaulted from the step provided high onto the dragons' back just behind the neck. He waved at Mara as his bronze dragon reared up on his hind legs, spread his wings and then launched high into the air before taking a down stroke.

Even as she smiled at the antics, Weyrwoman Lessa noted, for future reprimand, that the dragon was not wearing a riding harness.

As the bronze pair circled the bowl of the crater, gaining altitude, Mara lay back on the soft cushiony ground cover to see the entire flight.

Lessa watched the child-like expressions of the big woman who was experiencing such joy at the sight of a dragon flying overhead, and wondered just when it was that she had lost the wonder of such a sight. Of course, she thought, she had seen dragons since early childhood. She wondered what it would have been like to see a dragon for the first time at a much older age.

Mara gasped as dragon and rider seemed to disappear into a hole in the side of the high-walled crater. After a few heartbeats, she sat up slowly, smiling even as she grunted from sore, stiff muscles. "I think they're both show offs!" she said to Lessa.

Lessa nodded agreement, and decided to get a start on the talk she needed to have. "Do you hear all the dragons right now?"

Mara shrugged and smiled. "I'm not sure. I hear lots of them."

"Does that bother you? Hearing so many dragons at the same time?"

"No more than being on a busy dock." Seeing an unspoken request for more information, she continued. "I hear them, but quietly, like they're farther down the dock. I can pick out which voices I want to listen to. But, if they're excited or upset, they sound louder than the rest."

"How far away can you hear them?"

Mara shrugged again. "I don't know." She let her gaze move to the sky and smiled. "I can hear someone who just caught a wherry, and someone else is excited about swimming with . . ." she looked at Lessa "doll-fins?"

Lessa laughed. "Dolphins. They're animals who live in the ocean."

"Oh, ship-fish?"

"That's another name for them. Can you tell where they are?

Mara closed her eyes and after a heartbeat or two, pointed toward the southeast, and looked at Lessa for confirmation.

"Good." Lessa smiled, thinking that she could be pointing to a spot on the eastern coast, or as far away as Cove Hold or Landing. "What else do you hear far away."

Mara looked up again and laughed. "Someone is real excited to see Ruth again."

Lessa queried her queen. _Ramoth, dear, where is Ruth right now?_

_He's at Ruatha Hold with Jaxom. _

Lessas' eyebrows went up – Ruatha was on the other side of the continent. _Thank you, dear heart._

Mara hadn't noticed Lessa conversing with Ramoth. "Oh! Someone just asked his rider if he can flame a building in Keroon!" Mara blushed as she realized that she might be the reason for that draconic wish.

The weyrwoman laughed. "Thank the first egg he's not chewing firestone!"

_We come down now._ Normond bespoke both women sitting in the bowl.

Mara craned her neck to see the ridge of weyrs and gasped again as dragon with rider launched straight out of the hole, then spread his wings to glide, seemingly effortlessly, down and around the bowl.

Lessa watched her for a heartbeat and then looked up at the dragon and rider. "Still no harness."

The bronze dragon seemed to float down to a perfect landing in nearly the same spot he had occupied before. The rider slid off of Normonds' back with a carysak and a tightly covered bucket.

As he walked toward the women, Mara started laughing, so he stopped, holding his carysak out to one side and the bucket to the other side. "What's so funny?"

Mara blushed as she eyed the man. He had changed into a lightweight sleeveless tunic, knee length trousers and sandals. His heavily muscled arms and tree-trunk legs were covered with a thick carpet of dark hair, except for his ankles, which were white as snow where boots had rubbed off any semblance of hair. Mara tried to hide her smile, but failed miserably, so said simply "Nothing!"

Lessa, having far more experience hiding her emotions, simply coughed into her hand when she felt the corners of her own mouth twitch.

G'raden nodded at Mara. "All right, then." Then he looked at Lessa. "May I leave this here?" He held out the bucket.

Lessa smiled, finding it hard to avoid looking at those white ankles. "Of course."

The big man placed the bucket a few paces from the women, kicked off his sandals, turned around and ran to the lake. The further away he went, the louder the two women laughed.

Lessa was the first to speak. "I can honestly say that I have never seen that man look like that before."

"He looks . . . fuzzy, doesn't he?" said Mara.

Lessas' eyes widened and she blushed. "That might be rather nice on a cold winter night."

As the two women laughed and blushed at each other, Weyrleader F'lar approached with two furs draped over an arm. He was smiling, thrilled to see his lovely weyrmate laughing so freely. "Excuse me, ladies." When both turned still blushing faces to him, he continued. "I hope I'm not interrupting." When Lessa could only laugh, he went on. "It's getting a little chilly. I thought you might want these."

"Oh, F'lar, you are so sweet. Thank you, lover."

F'lar walked behind the women and draped a fur around Lessa, leaning close to kiss her cheek. When he placed a fur around Maras' shoulders she turned her head away, her smiling face now bright red. "Thank you, Weyrleader."

F'lar turned to Lessa, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I am interrupting!"

Lessa chuckled. "Just a little girl-talk. We were about to get down to business, though. Sit with us?" She patted the ground next to her.

As the weyrleader took a seat next to the weyrwoman, Mara turned to Lessa. "Can dragon hide get water-logged?" When four eyebrows went high, she looked back at the lake.

F'lar and Lessa followed the womans' gaze, and both witnessed a large, furry man tumbling through the air, to land on the water like a boulder, splashing water in all directions. A large bronze dragon head surfaced and pushed the man under water for a few heartbeats. Both chuckled at the sight, but Lessa took action.

"Ramoth, dear, will you please remind the boys in the lake that the sun will be setting soon?" She spoke out loud for the benefit of her companions.

They all three watched as the big bronze dragon floated to the surface and lifted his head on his long neck to survey the water around him. When he found what he was looking for, he dipped his muzzle into the water, swung his head around to just over the rider and dropped something into the water within his reach. The rider picked up what had been dropped and began scrubbing his dragons' hide.

* * *

Second half of this chapter is taking far too long to work out, so I hope this much will at least let you know that I'm working on it.

Please review! Is my writing ability acceptable? Do I need to work on any particular areas? Is the story at least interesting?


	6. Watch the toes!

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey:

Thank you for allowing me to play with your property!

* * *

**Continued from Chapter 5**

Mara turned back toward the now cozy couple at her side. F'lar sat with Lessa between his straddled legs. The fur he had provided was laying across her lap and over one of his legs. Mara tried hard to not act surprised. She had seen couples that close before, but never when she was so near. So she focused on Lessa. "Down to business?"

Lessa smiled, noting that this woman did have some initiative. "Ramoth thought you were probably asleep during Threadfall today, but Masterhealer says that you were most definitely awake."

"I was awake."

"What did you do during fall? How did you manage?" Lessa pointed to her own head.

Mara looked around at nothing in particular as she drew a deep breath, but turned back to the weyrwoman before answering. "Well, after the dragons woke me up, I went to the chair and just listened till everyone came back here."

F'lar asked "The dragons woke you?"

Mara grinned. "When you gave the call to fight thread – I didn't hear that - the dragons all got real excited and loud."

Lessa continued. "What do you mean, you 'just listened'?"

"I didn't want to think anything or feel anything, so I thought real hard about just listening. I kept saying 'just listen'."

"Why?" asked F'lar.

Mara shrugged. "I didn't want to bother the dragons during fall. I never knew before, that they could all hear me. I know thread is dangerous, so I didn't want to bother them. "

F'lar and Lessa both nodded, but Lessa continued the questioning. "Masterhealer thought you were in a trance."

"What's a trance?"

"He says that you slapped away the hands of his helpers, and that you even snapped at him."

Mara was shocked. "Oh, no. I don't remember that. Should I tell him I'm sorry?"

"Absolutely not!" F'lar was adamant.

Lessa added more gently "You were protecting dragons and riders. You don't owe anyone an apology for that!" After a concurring nod from Mara, she continued. "How did you deal with Bareths' injury?"

"Oh, that was hard. They all worried till they found out how little he was hurt. But . . . I just listened."

F'lar wanted further confirmation of her abilities. He already knew the answer, he thought, but asked "And how is Bareth now?"

"He'll be all right. He's more embarrassed than hurt. The numbweed is wearing off again, but his rider's right there with him."

Lessa repeated her earlier questions, for F'lars' benefit, on how many dragons Mara could hear and how far away. Mara told them about dragons listening to music somewhere to the west, and dragons playing with dolphins somewhere to the southwest, and a dragon carrying passengers (one young passenger had 'become wet' when they went between), and a dragon who was upset because his rider was arguing with his weyrmate, also to the southwest. Lessa also informed F'lar about her earlier hearing of a dragon at Ruatha Hold. F'lar, trying to not appear too impressed, merely nodded at each revelation, but finally asked, "When did you start talking to dragons?"

Mara took another deep breath as she gathered her thoughts. "The day Mama died. Markalan wouldn't stop crying and I didn't know what to do. I must've asked for help. A real friendly dragon started talking to me. She had the prettiest voice and said her rider was a healer. They helped me take care of Marky that day. And we'd talk almost every day after that.

Lessa broke in. "Do you know her name?"

"I didn't know dragons had names until she was gone. Then other dragons started talking to me, but I never asked for her name. I wish I'd asked."

Lessa changed the subject slightly. "Did you have any friends at Keroon?"

Mara let out a quick chuckle. "Da never let me talk to anyone."

"Even him?"

With wide incredulous eyes, Mara responded with conviction. "Only if he asked something!"

F'lar chuckled, pretending to understand. "You speak pretty well for someone who wasn't allowed to talk."

Mara grinned at F'lar conspiratorially. "He didn't know I talked to dragons."

Lessa chose her next words carefully. "Your father doesn't seem very . . . friendly."

Mara looked around again, trying to find the right words, and then shrugged at the weyrwoman. "He got real mean after Mama died. I think he didn't want me to talk to other people so I wouldn't find out just how mean he was."

The weyrwoman studied her, fairly certain now that she knew she hadn't been treated properly. "Did you ever think about running away?"

"Oh, I couldn't do that!"

"Why?" asked F'lar.

"Before Mama died, she asked me to take care of Da and my brother. She didn't even know that I had two brothers on that day. And I promised I would."

"You were only ten turns when we searched you!" F'lar thought the child she had held on her hip must have been at least three or four turns old then.

Mara detected his shock, but misinterpreted it – did he think that her age should have made a difference? She looked squarely and defiantly into his eyes. "But I promised!"

The weyrleader squeezed the weyrwomans' hand. A twenty-five turn old promise spoke volumes about this 'simple' woman. They looked into each others' eyes for several heartbeats and seemed to be conversing, but without words. Finally, the weyrleader nodded at the weyrwoman, who merely lifted her chin slightly higher. When the corners of F'lars' mouth formed a barely perceptible smile, Lessa turned back to the newest resident of Benden Weyr.

"You did a really good job of not bothering the dragons this day, Mara." She pointed at her temple. "But there are other ways to stay silent."

"So I won't snap at anyone?"

Both weyrleaders laughed at her. Lessa continued. "And so you can do other things and even talk to other people while the dragons are fighting Thread. I think that you and I should meet for a while each day," she directed her next phrase at her weyrmate. "as my other duties permit" and then turned back to Mara "to talk about controlling your talent." She was about to say more, but noticed that Bronze Rider G'raden was approaching the group.

G'raden approached the group cautiously, not wanting to interrupt, but needing his bucket of oil for Normonds' hide. The shadow on the east rim of the crater was rising fast and he didn't want to be applying oil when it started getting dark. He was glad to see Mara wrapped in a fur; the heat of this summer day was quickly dissipating to the coolness of these high mountains. He worried a bit about the intensity with which the three ahead of him were conversing. _Normond, is she all right?_

_She's not unhappy, but she is remembering some unhappy times. She is enjoying the conversation._

_What are they talking about?_

_G'raden, my curious rider, do you really want me to tell you what the weyrleader and weyrwoman are asking her?_

The big man growled half-heartedly. _Yes and no._

_Then I choose no._ Normond, several paces behind his rider, huffed loudly, once.

G'raden grunted in response. _Thank you, my wise dragon._

When they reached a point halfway between the lake and the seated group, the rider asked his dragon to wait there. When the weyrwoman faced him, he nodded and held his position until she nodded back. He laid his carisak, with scrubbing brush and bag of cleaning sand tied to the outside, on the ground and walked quickly toward his bucket of oil. He returned a nod from the weyrleader and tripped on a clump of ground cover when Mara turned and smiled. Oh, that beautiful smile, he thought as he blushed at his own clumsiness. When she leaned to one side, he sidestepped to give her a better view of his dragon, which earned him an even bigger smile. He was grinning when he reached the bucket, but no one had spoken to him, so he nodded to each of them as he stooped to pick up the bucket and then turned and walked back to Normond.

The weyrleaders and Mara watched the rider walk all the way back to his dragon. Mara began snickering as he reached his destination. F'lar felt Lessa jiggle slightly and looked down at her. She was smiling and . . . convulsing with barely restrained titters. F'lar was flabbergasted. When she looked at him he tried to cover his surprise. "That man needs some sun." Lessas' giggles escaped as she faced the big sniggering woman seated before them. F'lar could only watch as the two women shared giggles and Mara blushed. He looked closer at his longtime weyrmate and was surprised to see that her cheeks were slightly red. How long, he wondered, had it been since he had seen her blush? Had he ever seen his strong little woman turn red with anything but anger? He shifted his stunned gaze to Mara, who in response covered her face with the fur. What was it about this woman that could cause his Lessa to blush? Her innocent simplicity? Of course, he thought, sure he had stumbled on the answer. Lessas' innocence had been violently stripped from her at a very young age. Perhaps, he thought, this woman had tapped into that long lost innocence. But, was that a good thing? He reached both arms around his lover and hugged her tight. At the moment, he thought, it certainly was, but in the long run? He'd have to keep his eyes on both of them for awhile.

Lessa regained her composure first. She cleared her throat several times before looking up at F'lar. On seeing the amused confusion his face revealed, she pursed her lips, effectively erasing the last vestiges of her smile, and lifted her chin, daring him to comment on what he had just witnessed. He released her from his hug, spread his arms with palms facing away, leaned away from her and shook his head, allowing her this victory. As a reward, she graced him with a slight smile and a wink before turning back to Mara.

Mara had witnessed the non-verbal exchange between the couple. When Lessa turned her head, Mara looked at the ground, not quite sure whether watching such an intimate scene was considered polite. After a slow, control-restoring breath, she raised her eyes to meet Lessas'. "Back to business?"

The smiling weyrwoman nodded. "Back to business." She thought for a moment before continuing. "You hear dragons quite clearly. Do you ever hear people?" She immediately detected fear in the woman and somewhat regretted so blunt a question.

After several quick heartbeats, Mara answered. "Yes, when they talk."

The weyrwoman was bothered by the feeble attempt at deception, but reminded herself that this womans' life circumstances might be considered an acceptable excuse. "Do you hear what they think?"

"Mama said it wasn't nice to listen to peoples' thoughts." Her words were quick and nearly silent. "She said it was better to wait and let them tell you what they think."

Lessa had her answer, but wanted much more. "Did your mother hear peoples' thoughts too?"

Mara nodded, painfully aware that she had leaked a lifelong secret.

"Do you know your mothers' name?" Perhaps that would shed some light on this womans' talents.

"No. Da always called her Mama. Even after she died, when he talked to her after drinking too much ale."

"Have you listened to people here, at Benden Weyr?"

Mara slowly nodded her head, feeling both guilt and shame. "When I first woke up." She seemed to beg forgiveness as she continued. "So many people I didn't know and a place I didn't know. But it didn't take long to find out I was safe here."

Lessa smiled, trying to put her more at ease. "That's good, and understandable. Any other times?"

Mara looked at the ground and shrugged her shoulders. "When I first saw G'raden."

Lessa laughed, still trying to ease Maras' fear. This wasn't something to be ashamed of, but it was something to keep under control. "He does look rather big and scary, doesn't he?" F'lar chuckled as well.

Mara scowled at F'lar just briefly, but addressed Lessa. "Mama always said 'Looks don't say everything'."

"And you feel safe with G'raden? Because of what he was thinking?"

"He thinks a lot like a dragon thinks. He was worried, but he didn't think anything mean. And when the healer told him I'd be all right? He was . . . happy!"

"He seemed quite angry when you remembered what happened yesterday."

"Yes, he was angry, real angry. But, even then he didn't think anything mean. And later, the anger was . . . all gone. And he was happy again, just like a dragon. Oh, I wish I had the right words."

"I think we understand." Lessa looked at her weyrmate for confirmation. He nodded. She continued. "Do you hear peoples' thoughts the same way you hear dragons?"

"I try to keep them pushed far away. People . . . a lot of people can think really mean things, and I don't like it."

Lessa focused her thoughts at Mara. _Can you hear me now?_

Maras' eyes went wide as she smiled. _Yes! I can!_

"Good!" She turned to F'lar. "F'lar, dear, we've tried this before. Think something 'real loud' at Mara."

The weyrleader frowned at his weyrmate, but did as she suggested. He looked at Mara and 'thought real loud'. _G'raden is a good man._

_I'm glad you think so, weyrleader._ Mara beamed with excitement.

F'lars' eyebrows shot up, but he quickly recovered.

"This is not something to be used every day!" Lessa said sternly. "But, it's nice to know that, should we need to, we can communicate in this manner. Mara, if you ever need help, you may contact me in this way, understood?"

"Yes, Lady Lessa. Thank you."

"And we don't want anyone else to know about this just yet."

"Even G'raden?"

"For now, even G'raden."

Maras' face slumped, but she nodded her understanding.

Lessa studied her briefly, and decided that she could probably be trusted to keep this secret. "Now, Mara, we need to figure out how you can earn your keep!"

Mara brightened, anxious to be moving and doing something useful.

"What skills do you have? What do you know how to do?"

"I can lift things, heavy things, and carry them anywhere." She looked around the weyr and grimaced. "I can repair a fishnet." She could see that that would be of no use. She searched the weyr bowl for hints. "I can muck out . . ." her face went blank for a heartbeat, but then she turned a half smile to Lessa and finished. "beastholds."

"Hmm. We'll find something for you to do. But with your talent," Lessa tapped her temple "I really don't think you should be merely a drudge."

"I'll do anything!"

The weyrwoman smiled, appreciative of such enthusiasm. "You do know how to read."

"A little."

"You'll need to practice. Do you know how to write?" When Mara shook her head, she asked "Do you know your numbers?"

"I can count, but I don't know numbers on writing . . . " she struggled to find a word "things."

"That needs to change! Do you know your teaching songs?"

"I've heard songs, but I don't know any of them."

"I'll talk to our harpers to see how much time they can offer you."

Mara was ecstatic. "Oh, Lady Lessa! Harpers?"

The weyrwoman grimaced. "I'll give you your first lesson, here and now, Mara!" When the big woman smiled enthusiastically, Lessa continued with less irritation. "I, my dear, am not the lady of a hold. I am a weyrwoman! If you feel the need to call me by my title, please call me Weyrwoman! Understood?"

"But, G'raden . . ."

"Until this day, I didn't think he knew any better. Now I know better."

"Understood, Weyrwoman Lessa."

"Good." She nodded and smiled at Mara and then turned and winked at her weyrmate. "My backside is getting sore."

F'lar grinned as his hands moved toward her backside. "You need a massage, love?"

Lessa laughed even as she slapped one of his wandering hands and then turned back to Mara. "I think we should go inspect Rider G'radens' work."

F'lar easily lifted Lessa by her waist to a standing position and then quickly stood up himself. He moved quickly to help Mara, who was struggling with stiff and sore muscles. The weyrleader was surprised at how heavy and, at the moment, awkward this woman was, but was impressed that she maintained a smile even as she tried to hold back grunts and groans, and even as her hips and back popped loudly when she stood and stretched. He offered her an arm, which she gratefully accepted, and the three of them walked closer to the bronze dragon and rider.

Bronze Rider G'raden was just finishing oiling Normonds' tail. "Almost done." He directed this to his weyrleader, who nodded in return. _Did I miss anything, my love? _This was directed at his dragon.

_No, dear heart, I feel very well oiled now. Thank you._

G'raden squeezed the excess oil from the sea sponge Normond preferred into the bucket of oil. He replaced the lid and snapped it tight, and, with a cord running through the middle of the sponge, tied it to the carry handle of the bucket. With a towel he had earlier tucked into his trousers, he wiped his hands clean. He folded the towel and placed it on his forearm near the elbow. The bucket carry handle was placed over the towel and he moved to pickup his carisak, which he looped over the same arm. His smile grew wider as he approached the three observers. Ne nodded at F'lar. "Weyrleader."

The weyrleader grinned as he passed Maras' arm over to the rider. "G'raden."

"Thank you for your help, Weyrleader." said Mara.

Lessa reached for G'radens' bucket and carisak. "I'll take those, rider." When he started to object, she raised her chin and glared at him, and then winked. "Someone" she pointed to Mara with her eyes "should inspect your work, rider."

The big man grinned like a child finally allowed to play. "Yes, Lady Lessa!"

The weyrwoman gritted her teeth as she forced a smile at the joyful rider.

Mara quietly reassured Lessa. "I'll talk to him."

G'raden led Mara closer to Normond, placing an arm around her shoulders to keep her fur in place. When they were several paces away, he asked her "What did I say?"

Mara grinned as she looked into his eyes. "Later. I have a job to do!"

The big burly bronze rider laughed as he gently led her further.

Weyrwoman Lessa, having already set down the bucket and carisak, wrapped an arm around Weyrleader F'lars' waist. He laid his arm across her shoulders and smiled down at her, but asked sternly, "What's this about him knowing better?"

Lessa smiled back and placed her other hand on his stomach. "Later. Let's see how she handles her first assignment at Benden Weyr." F'lar chuckled as he pulled her closer to his side, turning slightly so they could both comfortably observe their newest, highly enthusiastic weyr member.

Bronze Rider G'raden stopped a few paces from Normonds' shoulder. Maras' mouth was agape as she tried to take in the entire length of the dragon. "He's so big!"

"One of the biggest on Pern!" The rider took great pride in this fact.

Mara turned hopeful eyes to the tall rider. "May I touch him?"

"Normond?" G'raden grinned at Mara to keep her attention on him.

The big bronze dragon swung his head around to a spot barely a pace from Maras' side. _You may touch me anytime you wish, Mara._

Maras' jaw dropped as she turned slightly and found two large eyes looking into her own. She reached out a hand to touch the dragons' face, but hesitated and looked back to G'raden.

"Anywhere but the eyes."

She laid a hand next to the ridge between Normonds' eyes, and gently rubbed up and down, letting her thumb follow the hills and valleys of the ridge. The big dragon let out a low rumble, which thrilled the big woman. "Oh, Normond. You are so handsome!"

"So," said G'raden "do you think I did a good job?"

Maras' hand stopped moving and she looked at the rider. "I don't know. I can't see his belly."

"Normond?"

The big bronze moved his head away and lifted it into the air. He then lifted his forepaws and was soon sitting on his haunches.

G'raden, chest puffed up with pride, had to steady Mara as she nearly lost her balance trying to follow the large head high into the sky.

"May I see the underside of your wings?" Maras' eyes widened as Normond spread his wings to either side. "Ohhhh." She studied one wing and then the other before lowering her gaze – she had, after all asked to see his belly. She walked forward and placed a hand on the big, soft, warm belly, and then moved back a couple of steps. When her gaze reached the dragons' right hind leg, she tilted her head.

G'raden noticed the tilt. "Did I miss something?"

Mara pointed to the dragons' foot. "I think so."

The rider moved to check his mistake, but turned back quickly to check on Mara. "Are you all right here?"

Mara just nodded. G'raden walked to his dragons' foot and crouched down, hands on his knees. "Where?"

Mara pointed, biting her lip. When G'raden crouched lower for a better look, she said with a grin he didn't see, "Between his toes."

***

Bronze Rider T'men sat in a simply designed but ornately carved, deeply cushioned armchair to one side of the ledge of the high weyr he shared with his big bronze dragon. As he flipped a page in the decoratively embossed leather-bound book he was reading, the sight of a large bronze dragon sitting on his haunches, head stretched to the sky and wings spread to full width, drew his complete attention. He placed his index finger on the page he had just turned to, closed the book on that finger, and leaned forward to get a full view of the dragon. Two people were standing close to the dragon's feet. When one reached out and touched him, the dragon shuddered from wingtip to wingtip, but maintained his pose. The magnificent pose faltered when one of the people moved closer to a foot and bent over – the dragons' wings pulled in just slightly as his head snaked down closer to the bent over person. T'men chuckled as he remembered a broken carving he had once seen a child playing with – someone had tried to refasten the long neck to the body, but the fastening failed and the head drooped piteously. As the bent over person stood slowly and raised his arms over his head, T'men recalled the 'monster' game he often played with his beautiful daughter when she was young. He quickly forced that memory aside as the two people clasped upraised hands just prior to the dragons' wing encircling them. He laughed as a woman broke away from a man – that could only be Lessa and F'lar, he thought – and flapped her arms at the dragon. He laughed harder as the now sulking dragon folded his wings, waddled sideways and lowered himself to the ground very near the two people he had been hiding, one now holding the other by the waist.

_Reyuth? Did you see that?_

_She played a good joke on both of them._

_So it seems, my love._ T'men watched as the four people, two hand-in-hand and one holding the arm of another, walked slowly toward the Lower Cavern entrance. _I believe this will be one of our more pleasant assignments, Reyuth._

_I agree. I like it here._

T'men opened his book, replaced his finger with a braided ribbon bookmark, and snapped it closed. He stood, picked up his chair, and carried it carefully back into his weyr. _I think it's well past time to write a thank you letter to our friend, Reyuth._

_Please tell him I send my regards._

_I will most certainly do that, my dear._

The tall bronze rider carefully set his chair before a small writing desk. It, like the chair, was simply designed, but just as ornately carved, apparently by the same craftsman/artist. He laid his book on top of another and stacked them and two others on the back corner of the desk. He sat down, opened the single desk drawer, and withdrew a single sheet of newly crafted paper, his signature stamp, a candle, a length of ribbon and one of the recently developed writing instruments from Landing. It was a long slender tube of finely polished Skybroom wood with a pointed metal tip on one end and a small tube of metal on the other end. He laid the wooden tube on the piece of paper, carefully pulled his chair closer to the desk, picked up the writing instrument and began writing his letter.

* * *

Thanks again for reading this little story. And thanks to all the reviewers!

Amere Mortal, I typed a long response before realizing there was no return e-mail!

Anyway, thanks for all your comments and suggestions. Please send more!


	7. So much opportunity!

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey:

Thank you for allowing me to play with your property!

* * *

Benden Weyr

Over the course of the next several days, Mara was permitted to venture farther and farther from her room, sometimes even without escort, though firm restrictions had been placed by the Weyr Masterhealer. While walking with Bronze Rider G'raden, she toured the majority of the public areas in Benden Weyr, with the notable exception of the Hatching Grounds – a clutch was due to hatch within the seven-day and Weyrwoman Lessa didn't feel Mara should go anywhere near the eggs or the clutching junior queen.

G'raden introduced her to everyone they met, when they had time available. Most were quite pleasant, the most obvious exception being one of the candidates in the Weyrling Barracks; one of the Weyrlingmasters' assistants promptly scuffed the back of his head and led him by an ear into the barracks for some training on weyr manners.

G'raden had tried to avoid the weyrs' beasthold, but Mara insisted, once they had gone that far, on seeing everything having to do with her new home. She did suffer a flashback to Keroons' gather day, as G'raden had feared, but recovered quicker than he expected and insisted on continuing the tour, even meeting the weyr beastmaster and several of his helpers.

Mara had even been permitted to join in some of the group meals, usually sitting with Bronze Rider G'raden and his 'brothers'. They all seemed to enjoy each others' company, several times laughing so hard they made various messes with their food. The messes were always cleaned up quickly due to the seemingly ever scrutinizing gaze of the weyrwoman. When the dragonriders were seated by wing groups rather than friendship circles, Mara sat with the healers.

When Thread fell again, Mara was permitted to walk through the bowl as long as she stayed out of the way. Healers, both dragon and human, were double checking their emergency preparations, reviewing procedures with newer helpers, and generally staying alert for the inevitable injuries, though they always hoped for none. Weyrlings and others were rushing to keep bags of firestone ready for loading onto the backs of other weyrling dragons. Kitcheners were preparing sacs of food to be ferried to Thread-fighting riders; fall this day had precluded a midday group meal. Everyone in the weyr was busy, some even sweeping floors that had just been swept. Mara had asked repeatedly if she could help in any way, but was repeatedly turned down with 'Not this time'. So, not wanting to sit in her room, she strolled through the summer warmed bowl and wound up wearing a trail along the eastern wall, far out of anyones' way, but close enough to see and hear most everything going on. She watched all the activities and busy work as she concentrated on 'just listening'. At one point, Masterhealer sent an apprentice with a cup of water to her, and was pleased to see that Mara not only didn't snap at his apprentice, but actually became engaged in a brief conversation.

A young blue dragon and his rider were the first injuries, thankfully only minor thread score. When the rider looked away from the Masterhealer, he followed the riders' gaze and was somewhat surprised to see Mara standing at the eastern wall, smiling at the rider. He was relieved that the rider and his dragon, neither having suffered thread score before, relaxed noticeably. He was not pleased, however, when the rider flatly refused even a minute dose of fellis.

When another weyrling was lost due to a midair flaming miscalculation, Mara fell against the wall. On hearing the Weyrlingmaster barking nonstop at the weyrlings, she moved along the wall to a spot closer. Here, she could hear the Weyrlingmasters' rant. "No time for that now! We mourn after the last Thread has been charred from the sky and the last burrow charred from the ground! Concentrate, lass! Move that firestone! No time for mourning; we have Thread to fight! Concentrate, lad, or you'll be next!" As a second weyrlings' dragon took Thread around his neck due to lack of concentration on both their parts, the Weyrlingmaster turned from the firestone line and stomped a heavy boot hard into the sand. Mara saw a tear fall from the mans' eye just as he noticed her. His jaw clenched tight, he grimaced at her and spun around to repeat his far too often practiced tirade. "Lack of concentration will get you and your dragon killed! Concentration is the key to surviving Thread! We mourn after the last Thread has been charred from the sky and the last burrow charred from the ground!"

Early on this day, Weyrwoman Lessa informed an excited Mara that she had been 'released' from her sick room and had been assigned a temporary room in the Inner Cavern. She would be assigned a more permanent room when she had regained all of her strength, based on Masterhealers' prerequisites.

Mara, carrying her cherished copy of 'The Charter of Pern', followed the weyrwoman, first to meet Headwoman Manora in the clothing storage room, where she was issued several pairs of light-weight trousers, a pair of heavier-weight trousers for cooler days, several tunics of various weights, a skirt (even though Mara had never worn one before), under things, and shoes (a low-cut pair of mens' shoes with thick soles). To the extreme dismay of the large woman, Weyrwoman Lessa carried her 'new' clothing while the headwoman led the way through the Living Cavern to the Inner Cavern. They walked up a ramp and into the first room along the banistered ledge, where the weyrwoman left the clothing on a thickly stuffed mattress and excused herself to attend to other duties.

Headwoman Manora helped Mara put away her new acquisitions in a small chest. Maras' book was given exhibition status on top of the chest. The headwoman then ordered her to change into the more appropriate clothing which she held aside earlier and smiled fiercely to avoid gawking at the muscle on this womans long, heavy frame.

On touring the necessary room a few doors down the walkway, the Headwoman was surprised to see Mara jump when she caught a glimpse of movement to their side. The Headwoman grinned when she realized that this woman had never seen herself in a mirror. She guided the now very shy and somber woman closer.

"Now I see why people are so scared of me."

"What?" The Headwoman was shocked.

"I look like a big, scary man."

The Headwoman ran her knuckles roughly over the tall, slouching womans' upper spine, causing her hunched shoulders to shoot back to a more appropriate position. "Now look!" she commanded.

Mara half smiled and half grimaced. She turned a reddening face to the Headwoman and said "Now I look like a big, scary man with . . . " She held her hands in front of her chest, palms facing inward.

Manora laughed at her. "Breasts!" She pushed Maras' hands to her chest. "They are called breasts!" And then she seriously scolded the woman. "You should be very grateful and proud that you are so tall and strong!"

The Headwoman was immensely amused when Mara asked where the water in the lavatory went after the rope was pulled to flush the contents out of sight, but slightly embarrassed when she had to admit that she really didn't know.

As they continued around the ledge, Manora pointed out various features of the room and named each of the industrious people below. As they walked down the opposite ramp, a small, very effeminate, and loudly dressed man approached.

"Look at that hair!" He almost shouted as he pointed with two fingers outstretched from a hand cocked at an odd angle. And then he pleaded. "Oh, Manora, pleeease let me work on that hair!" The headwoman scowled at him for interrupting their tour. The little man continued his plea. "She'll look and feel soooo much better with a clean head." After noting Maras' casual interest, the headwoman left her with the exuberant little man with instructions that she was to be taken to the Living Cavern immediately afterwards. She shook her head as the little man took the big woman by the hand and led her to his barbers' chair. He chatted nonstop the entire way about how much better she would look and feel with a 'proper' hair styling.

After being 'properly styled', Mara was led to meet with the kitcheners and even the head cook. Later she was shuffled throughout most of the weyr to meet and be questioned by various people in charge of each department within the weyr. Each department head or second seemed pleased that the newest weyr member was so anxious to be useful in any way possible and to earn her place in the weyr.

The weyrs' Master Harper questioned her extensively. He was a bit dismayed at her apparent reverence for his position, but masterfully turned that reverence into exuberant play as she absorbed with great thirst the new words he smattered into his questions. He was positively thrilled when she would then test those new words within her answers. He was bothered by the fact that there were still pockets, even in civilized holds like Keroon, where people could live their whole lives without ever hearing a harpers' stories or songs. He was annoyed when she used the word 'abomination' in response to a question about her knowledge of AIVAS, but relieved when she accepted his correction, not with embarrassment or rancor, but instead with questions of her own. When Manora defiantly snatched the big woman from the Harpers' office to help with midday meal preparation, he fought the urge to find Weyrwoman Lessa; this could wait until they met a short time later to eat.

Manora tried to get the big woman to sit and watch all the preparations taking place, but soon realized what torture she was forcing on the eager soul. Mara was assigned to help fill mugs and cups with wines and klah and cold spring water. These would be placed with the first servings of food at the tables, and refilled as needed from skins and pitchers by wandering drudges. As the tables began to fill with hungry dragonriders and weyrfolk, Mara was allowed to make the rounds once with a tray full of klah mugs. She was then 'ordered' by the stern headwoman to fill a plate for herself and eat 'to more quickly regain her strength'. Mara, of course, chose to sit with Bronze Rider G'raden and his friends.

She wound up sitting, or more accurately bouncing with excitement, between G'raden and Bronze Rider G'regg and across the table from Bronze Riders T'men and B'nor. G'raden immediately complimented her new hair style, earning himself a big smile and a polite 'thank you'. G'regg put a hand on her head to feel the loose curls and was rewarded with a fierce scowl. The four riders seemed genuinely interested in Maras' accounts of the people she had met this day and all the chores she was certain she would be able to help with. G'raden had to continually remind her to eat.

As Mara began telling of her time spent with the weyrs' Masterharper, she grew even more excited. She listed some of the new words she had learned and then turned to G'raden. "What is 'conundrum'?"

The big man frowned. "I don't know that word." He turned raised eyebrows to T'men.

When Mara also turned to T'men, he asked "How did he use the word?"

"He said that I was a conundrum."

T'men squinted. "And you haven't figured it out yet?" Mara returned his squint and shook her head. "Well. If you put your mind to it, you will eventually solve that conundrum."

Maras' face scrunched up before a smile slowly overtook her. "This entire weyr is an immense conundrum."

T'men nodded approval. "You've got it!"

G'raden still frowned. "I don't get it."

Mara requested confirmation from T'men. "A puzzle?" When T'men nodded, she turned to G'raden who also nodded, and nearly bounced from her chair. "You are a conundrum as well!"

"Ahhh." G'raden laughed at her excitement.

G'regg laid a hand on the womans' shoulder and was stunned when she jerked around to face him. "You are not a conundrum and if you don't stop touching me, I'm going to hit you! Understood?"

The surprised bronze rider placed his pulled back hand on his chest and bowed his head briefly. "I most sincerely apologize. I honestly meant no harm."

Mara studied his seemingly sincere visage and took a deep breath. After slowly releasing it, she relented. "I apologize for snapping."

"No harm done." A gleam appeared in the riders' eyes as he held out his hand. "Friends?"

Maras' jaw dropped at the mans' audacity. She firmly slapped the palm of his hand and with a smirk, pointed a finger at him. "I will hit you!"

G'regg raised his hands in mock defeat. "I believe you would!" His infectious laughter soon contaminated all at the table, relieving the tension and allowing the conversation to continue.

Mara soon became somber, though, and gazed curiously at T'men. "What's 'abomination'?"

"Oh!" He thought for just a moment and sighed. "An abomination is something horrible, something shameful, something to be hated and feared. How was that word used?"

"It was . . . mis-used . . . by a fool."

T'men smiled with understanding. "Did the fool learn anything from the misuse of such a big word?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Good! No shame in that."

The riders and the woman finished their meal in good humor. At one point, Weyrwoman Lessa stopped behind T'men and whispered something in his ear. When he nodded, she left with only nods for the other riders and Mara. B'nor and G'regg teased him mercilessly, but T'men revealed nothing of what was said.

When the meal was done, Mara collected everyones' plates and mugs or cups, much to the delight of G'regg and B'nor, and returned to the kitchen. Manora immediately shuffled her off to still more department heads throughout the weyr.

The riders returned to their daily training exercises, with the exception of T'men. He stopped to speak with his wingleader and then walked leisurely to the council chamber.

F'lar and Lessa sat at opposite ends of the long stone table, Lessa with her back to the entrance. T'men announced his presence and was asked to enter. He greeted the Weyrleader and then the Weyrwoman and stood near her massive chair.

The weyrwoman appeared haggard. She was massaging her neck with one hand as she nearly snapped at the rider. "Sit." She indicated a chair near her end of the table.

As T'men sat, he offered a suggestion. "You should ask G'raden for a neck massage."

"G'raden!"

"Some say his fingers are magic."

"I don't need magic fingers!" When T'men nodded, she got to the reason for this meeting. "I've heard that you were in training to be a harper before you were searched."

"I was never actually searched. Some fellow harpers and I visited Ista Weyr to observe a hatching, and were all surprised when Reyuth chose me."

"You were only days from walking the tables?"

"That was the rumor."

"What was your specialty?"

"I never chose a specialty, but always enjoyed teaching."

"But you never earned your journeymans knots."

"I never walked the tables."

"Do you regret that?"

T'men stiffened. "I do not regret one single moment of the time I have spent with Reyuth. And I am honored to be of service to Pern as a dragonrider."

"But you miss harpering."

T'men chuckled. "Harpering can be done anywhere and anytime. While my primary mission is not what I had planned, my secondary mission is still harpering. As a matter of fact, Harper Hall has asked me to establish a library right here at Benden Weyr." On seeing Lessa shoot a questioning glance at F'lar, he continued. "Surely, the weyrmaster has obtained your approval for our plans?"

Lessa, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to admit lack of knowledge in any goings on in her weyr, avoided the question entirely. "Everyone in this weyr should have access to information." She kneaded her neck one more time and shifted restlessly in her chair. "Would you be willing to take on an older student?"

T'mens' eyes sparkled with delight. "I find older students to be far more appreciative of my time than youngsters forced to sit through tedious classes. As a matter of fact . . ." He stopped when Lessa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Perhaps later we can discuss another possibility."

"Good." The weyrwoman didn't even try to hide her frustration. "You've met Mara. How do you assess her potential for learning?"

"Oh, ho! Maras' mind is a large very dry sponge in the middle of the Igen desert at high sun in midsummer. She absorbs every drop of information and thirsts for more."

"So, you think she has good potential."

"As much potential . . ."

"No more metaphors, please."

"I believe she has high potential. Just how high, only time will tell."

"When can you start working with her?"

"I have free time this evening."

"Good. Keep me informed of her progress." The weyrwoman stood up and walked toward the entrance of the chamber.

"May I ask where you will be tomorrow?"

She turned a questioning glare on the bronze rider.

T'men accurately deduced that she was unaware that some of the greens would be flying. That would explain her current state of agitation, her short temper and seemingly short attention span. She was feeling the prodiness of the greens. "Mara may need some assistance dealing with the greens mating flight."

Anger flared in her eyes, probably at herself. "Of course. I haven't made plans yet."

T'men smiled gently. "May I make a suggestion, Weyrwoman?"

She scowled, but gave a more acceptable answer than she would have preferred at the moment. "Suggestions are always welcome."

"You should take more time for yourself. Even a weyrwoman needs to relax from time to time." Her anger flared again, but she only glared. "Some of the biggest mistakes in Pern history have been made by highly efficient leaders who are too busy to notice minor details."

"Spoken like a true harper. Thank you for your time, Bronze Rider T'men."

T'men bowed gracefully, purposefully ignoring her jab. "At your service, Weyrwoman." He turned to the other end of the table and nodded. "Weyrleader."

F'lar raised a finger. "Wait for me outside, please."

T'men nodded acknowledgment and left the chamber.

F'lar stood and walked toward Lessa. When she turned away, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "We could go to Landing with the other queens and the children."

Lessa turned in anger. "And who would help Mara?"

"She could come with us. Ask the Masterhealer." When she only glared, he smiled sweetly, bowed slightly and left.

The weyrleader found Bronze Rider T'men leaning against the east wall at the bottom of the stairs outside the weyrwomans quarters. He bounced lightly down the stairs and clapped T'men on the shoulder, turning him to walk further down the east wall.

"Harper T'men!" He might have been teasing, but was certainly impressed. "Thank you for reinforcing what I have been trying to drill into our weyrwomans' thick skull."

"She carries a lot of weight on those narrow shoulders."

"I just hope I never see her overreach her carrying capacity."

T'men nodded at his now somber weyrleader. "As do I, sir."

F'lar smiled and a gleam returned to his eyes. "She added quite a bit to your plate this day."

T'men laughed. "After dinner sweet treats, believe me!"

The weyrleader stopped and turned to face his newest bronze rider. "I'm about to heap your plate with more of the main course."

"I have a big appetite, sir."

F'lar took a step back and placed fists to his waist. "Not as big as mine!"

T'men took up the challenge. "At least as big, but with a different main course." When F'lar only glared, he continued, laughing. "You can have most of the herdbeast; I'm rather fond of wherry and fish."

"You can have the wherry and fish. Enough talk of food! It's making me hungry." He again clapped a hand on T'mens shoulder and they walked further down the wall. "Your wingleader is anxious to return to his previous, less demanding position of wingsecond."

"I've suspected as much." Brown rider M'dar had been pushing more and more of his wingleader duties onto T'men. The bronze rider knew he was being tested. He had, after all, been a wingleader back at Ista Weyr prior to his transfer.

F'lar stopped again and studied the dragonrider/harpers' face. "Will you accept the position of wingleader of the third wing?"

Bronze Rider T'men smiled warmly and proudly. "I am honored to serve you and Benden Weyr in any capacity, Weyrleader."

The two bronze riders clasped forearms in the standard dragonrider fashion. "Good. I'll announce it at evening meal." F'lar, still gripping his new wingleaders' arm, turned toward the living cavern. "Now, let's see if the cooks have any leftover herdbeast. I'm still hungry."

* * *

I've made a slight revision.

Haven't received but one review, so not sure what to make of that.

I'll keep plugging away till you tell me to stop.


	8. First lessons

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey:

Thank you for allowing me to play with your property!

* * *

Weyrwoman Lessa was unable to convince the Weyrs' Masterhealer that Mara should leave Benden Weyr the next day while the green dragons engaged their mating instincts. Instead, he had successfully convinced her of the potential danger of traveling between, given the internal injuries she had suffered less than a sevenday earlier. So, as Lessa walked from the Healers' office, she strengthened her mental defenses and resigned herself to spending a good part of the next day with Mara. It wouldn't be so bad, she thought; the woman was pleasant enough. But something about that nearly constant smile bothered Lessa. The woman hadn't had a pleasant life and the incident at the Keroon Gather should have her feeling sad, or depressed, or angry, or anything but so sharding happy. Was she suppressing her feelings?

_I don't think she is capable of suppressing her feelings, Lessa._

_Then, why is she so sharding happy? It's annoying!_

_You should ask __her__._

_I will not!_ And then it occurred to Lessa that her beloved queen dragon was holding something back. _You already know! You know I don't like you keeping secrets from me, Ramoth._

_Then ask Mara to share __her__ secret with you. _

_Oh, you can be so impossible._

_And you can be so proddy, my dear._

Lessa sighed deeply, reinforcing her mental defenses yet again. _I'm sorry, my love._

_I understand, my dear Lessa._

As the Weyrwoman entered the lower caverns, she thanked Faranth yet again for the blessing named Manora. The cavern was already cleaned up after the midday meal. She smiled and waved at each of the people cleaning the floor; most were kitchen drudges, but two were candidates from the weyrling barracks joined at the waist by a man-length piece of wher-hide strapping. Lessa wondered briefly what they had done to deserve that old team building exercise, but decided to leave it to the weyrlingmaster; he would let her know if it had been serious.

Lessa found Manora in the kitchen area and they spent some time going over supply lists and the upcoming Hatching Day meal plans. Lessa learned that a supply caravan would be arriving within a few days to replenish quite a few of their stores, and with a good selection of fabrics and yarns for the winter clothing that would need to be worked up over the course of the summer. She also learned that a shipment of books and lumber for shelves from Harper Hall should be on the same caravan. Lessa questioned Manora carefully on the location of the Weyr Library and was dismayed to realize that they had indeed discussed the matter shortly after T'mens' arrival. Lessa scolded herself silently; perhaps the almost-harper was right about her needing to take some time to relax.

The evening meal was fraught with excitement on many levels. Most of the men, dragonriders and not, seemed full of anticipation for the upcoming green mating flight. Most of the women were responding to the mens' excitement; some feeling quite proddy and others just flirty. More than a few ribald comments were directed at women of all stations; a few were countered with almost vicious slaps and/or demeaning comments; all were handled in good humor. The dragonriders were also planning for the fall of thread in the afternoon of the next day, so were seated by wings. And all were aware of the impending hatching of a junior queens' eggs any day now. Lessa just hoped that the greens would fly early to allow for sufficient rest for any of the riders who would be flying thread later.

Weyrleader F'lar announced the promotion of Bronze Rider T'men to wingleader of the third wing. Brown Rider M'dar was teased mercilessly about being 'demoted', though everyone knew full well that his leadership of the wing had been temporary to begin with. M'dar made light of the whole matter, regaling others with all the more important priorities he would prefer attending to as he held one of the kitchen women on his lap.

Mara had been sequestered in the back of the kitchen area, much to her dismay. Manora did not want her subjected to the sometimes thoughtless, even though harmless, behavior of the excited riders. Mara had been permitted to help load trays of food and drinks, but was not allowed to walk among the tables. She was reprimanded repeatedly for trying to help out, and feeling quite proddy herself, became more and more irritable with each reprimand. By the end of the meal, her 'nearly constant smile' had flipped into an unpleasant scowl. As the cavern began to empty, Mara was permitted to help with clearing and then scrubbing the tables; so much energy had better be used somewhere productive. Maras' sour countenance was quickly a thing of the past, much to Manoras' delight.

Bronze Riders T'men and G'raden returned to the cavern just as Manora was rushing to take a broom away from the overly energetic woman. "T'men! G'raden!" she called from midway into the cavern. "Please get her to sit down! The healer will lock her up again if he learns how much she's done today."

G'raden teased the broom away from Mara as T'men laid several items on a table near the entrance to the massive cavern where plenty of the early evening summer light would eliminate the need for glows for quite some time yet. G'raden, now having control of the broom, swept the floor under and around the table before relinquishing the tool to a kitchen drudge.

T'men sat at the table with a neatly squared off stack of wood fiber writing paper, several books and a couple of soft lead writing tools. Mara sat to his right and G'raden sat next to her. "Well," began T'men, "do you have any questions before we begin?" When she shook her head, he prompted her with "Maybe about the greens flying tomorrow?"

Mara smiled and blushed just slightly. "No, Lessa told me about that before the evening meal. I think I understand now."

T'men and G'raden exchanged relieved glances before T'men placed both hands on his stack of teaching tools. "Good. So, where would you like to start? Reading or writing?"

Mara leaned forward and untied the apron she was wearing, and then leaned back and reached into a pocket in her loose, lightly woven trousers. She pulled out a tightly rolled set of thin hides. "Could we start by reading these?" She rolled the hides out onto the table between her and T'men.

"What are they?"

"L'ret called them 'transcripts of his introductory lessons'." She faltered only slightly on the words she didn't understand.

"Do you know what that means?"

"Well, 'transcripts' is probably the written words of what he would say in his lessons to the weyrlings." When T'men nodded, she continued. "I don't know what 'introductory' is though."

"Well, you have been introduced to the differences between hold life and weyr life, and you have been introduced to the workings of this weyr." When Mara smiled, he stopped.

"So, I have been given 'introductory lessons' in being useful to Benden Weyr?"

"Exactly! One needs to be introduced to something or someone before one can learn anything more."

"So these are his first lessons to the weyrlings! He wants me to read them before I go back to see him again."

"Then you'd better get started! Which one do you want to read first?"

Mara laid out the three hides and looked at the top of each before pointing to one in particular. "This says 'Lesson 1', so, we should start here."

"Good. You read what you can, and we'll see where you need work."

Mara pulled the hide closer, took a deep breath and began reading, slowly, with a tortured grimace. "The Human Dragon Bond." She frowned at T'men. "What is bond?"

"A bond is a connection. The ink is bonded to the hide." He grinned mischievously. "And you are bonded to that chair."

"The Healer should be happy." Mara quipped back and then began the first paragraph. "The bond between humans and dragons is the most . . ."

"Unique" T'men supplied and when she frowned, he gave her a definition. "One of a kind."

"Unique pairings with non-humans in all the history of humanity. Is 'humanity' all humans?" When T'men nodded, she sighed. "This could take days!"

Both bronze riders laughed, but T'men encouraged her. "You are doing very well. Practice is all you need. And at our next lesson, I'll introduce you to a dictionary."

"What's a dictionary?"

"Next lesson. Read." T'men affected sternness, but his dancing eyes and quickly returning smile cheered Mara greatly.

She read through all three hides before Manora, well pleased with what she had seen and heard, placed a pair of glows at the table as she sat across from the group. Maras' reading speed had improved greatly over the course of just one evening. She still had trouble with oddly spelled words, but was picking up the sounds of different letter combinations quickly. And once a new word was defined, she seemed to remember that definition with each subsequent encounter.

"Questions?" asked T'men.

"What's a dictionary?"

T'men laughed. "Next lesson! Any questions about these transcripts?"

"I'll save those for L'ret. Maybe he'll have a little time tomorrow."

Manora queried Mara. "May I assume that you have chosen your place at Benden Weyr?"

"Assumptions. . ." Mara squinted at the headwoman "can be misguided." When Manoras' jaw dropped, Mara laughed at her. "I will work any place you wish me to work."

Manora pushed her. "But you would be happiest with the Weyrlingmaster?"

"I am happy anywhere in Benden Weyr." Before she could be pushed farther, she added, "Besides, I'm not sure L'ret wants me over there. He kept trying to talk me out of working with young dragons."

G'raden spoke for the first time since they all sat down. "Working with . . . weyrlings can be . . . painful sometimes."

Mara put a hand over his on the table and flushed slightly. "Life is painful – from birthing to . . ." she seemed to look around the ceiling, fully aware that Normond could be listening through his rider, "the other end. The best way to be happy is to accept that."

G'raden grinned at her and then at T'men. "I told you she was smart!"

T'men laughed. "But you didn't tell me she was so wise!"

Such a compliment elicited a deep reddening of Maras' face. "Mama told me that . . . just before she birthed Markalan."

Manora reached a hand across the table. "But you remembered it. You be sure to remind L'ret of that fact!"

"I already did. That's when he gave me these transcripts and told me not to come back until I'd read them." She didn't tell them how his eyes had started filling before he had ordered her away.

* * *

Next chapter is coming within the next couple of days.

Please review! Any comments on my writing style would be greatly appreciated.


	9. The greens fly

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey:

Thank you for allowing me to play with your property!

* * *

**Next day**

The morning meal was somewhat rushed when early risers found several of the green dragons glowing brightly in the early morning sun. Young children were fed quickly and given carisacs of snacks. Female candidates, young children and some of the older weyrfolk were loaded onto the backs of dragons who's riders, for various reasons, did not wish to participate in or witness the mating flight. This day, most would fly to Landing or Cove Hold for the duration. Some would swim with the dolphins, some would spend time in the Aivas facility, and some would trade goods or meet with friends. Everyone, staying or going, treated the event as a grand adventure.

Lessa, L'ret, and several wingleaders checked that riding straps had been properly secured on each of the many passengers on each dragon. When all were satisfied, Lessa waved at F'lar. He smiled forlornly at her as he gave the first signal to take off. Dragons heading to Cove Hold leaped into the air first, gained altitude and then blinked out of sight. F'lar gave a second signal and he and the remaining dragons took off, gained altitude and went between.

Lessa hugged herself and sighed deeply as she turned a full circle and surveyed the dragons perched on the high ridges surrounding the weyr. All the dragons were in good color this day. Four of the greens were especially magnificent, glittering in the early morning sun. At ground level, several of the smaller caves (those not large enough to be used as weyrs for dragons) had been converted centuries ago into 'occasional sleeping rooms', sometimes used for visitors, but more often used during these mating flights. Some of the riders of the most brightly colored greens were already congregating near these occasional rooms.

_How soon, Ramoth?_

_Before the first ray of sunlight hits the lower caverns._ Lessa found the lowest ray and guessed at half a candle mark.

_Thank you, dear heart._

As the weyrwoman walked to the lower caverns, she wondered exactly when these mating flights had become so depressing.

_You are __not__ depressed, Lessa, dear. You are upset that you won't be helping your man with his research. I, however, __am__ depressed because I won't be getting massaged by the dolphins._

Lessa smiled. _We'll get another chance, Ramoth. Real soon._

_Then you should not be upset and I should not be depressed. Do you agree?_

_I do most definitely agree, my love. Thank you for cheering me up on this beautiful day._

_Any time, my dear._

When she entered the lower caverns, Lessa was stopped in her tracks by a most unusual sight. Manora, the highly energetic headwoman, sat at an out-of-the-way table with her head in her hands. The kitchen workers were being extra quiet in their clean-up activities and were avoiding the headwoman as much as possible.

As Lessa approached, she began to worry. Was she sleeping? "Manora? Are you all right?"

Manora's head jerked up at the sound of her name. She looked at Lessa with a slightly dazed expression. "Oh, Lessa." She managed a slight smile. "I'm just a little tired."

Lessa put a hand on her shoulder and then began rubbing her back. "Then you should go take a nap, dear."

"I can't just yet. Someone has to keep that . . . mm . . . healer away from Mara."

"What? Why?"

The headwoman seemed both angry and embarrassed; neither was characteristic of the highly efficient and confident woman. "He talked me into giving her some fellis juice last night. He gave perfectly reasonable explanations for why she needed it. She dropped like a sack of firestone, and then had bad dreams all night long. And do you think he would come look in on her? 'She'll be fine. Just let her sleep.' She jerked and twitched all night long as if she'd been strapped to the bed. She woke up this morning so stiff and sore, you'd think she'd been attacked again. And now he wants to give her more! 'To help her through this day' he says."

Lessa hugged her friend, as much to comfort her as to hide her own growing anger. "Oh, Manora." She leaned back and looked into her eyes. "I stayed here today to 'help her through this day' in a way that will help her through all the other days like this still to come. You tell me where she is, and then go take a nap!" When Manora started to object, Lessa continued. "You've trained your people so well, they will do just fine without you for a while."

Manora smiled at the weyrwoman's compliment and then pointed toward the inner cavern. "She ran down the tunnel a little while ago. I didn't follow her, so I can honestly tell that man that I don't know where she is."

Lessa laughed at the headwoman's cunning partial deception and then hugged her one more time for good measure. "I'll find her. You take a nap. That's an order!" She helped Manora to her feet and started her in the right direction, toward her sleeping room.

As they passed the cavern entrance, she noticed Bronze Rider T'men, leaned against the wall just inside the entrance, cleaning his fingernails with his boot knife. Lessa let Manora go after evoking her promise to go to bed, and then turned on the smiling rider. "What are you doing here?" she asked flatly.

T'men slid his knife into its sheath on his boot, dancing eyes never leaving his weyrwoman's face, as he answered. "Reyuth ate well this morning."

Lessa watched as he stood up straight. "He'll be ready for thread later?"

"He didn't eat that much!"

"Why didn't you go to Landing?"

"I've been there before. And, not all learning comes from books and files."

Lessa studied him, with his irritatingly charming harper smile, and sighed. "Fine." And she turned and strode through the inner cavern to the tunnel leading deeper into the mountain.

_Ramoth?_

_Third door on the left in the tunnel closest to the bowl, Lessa._

_Thank you, love._

Just inside the tunnel, Lessa reached for a small glow basket before moving on. At the third door on the left, she paused. _Mara, I'm coming in._

_All right._

Lessa was a bit surprised at how easy this attempt at telepathy had been. She opened the door and walked in, keeping the glow basket in front of her, hoping to hide T'men's presence. She found Mara hunkered down near the far wall of the empty storeroom.

"It's a little scary the first time, isn't it?" Lessa moved slowly toward the big woman.

"It's not so scary after you explained it, but it's so loud." It sounded as if Mara were talking from the far end of a long tunnel.

As Lessa drew closer, she could see that Mara had hands clasped over her ears and elbows resting on her knees. "They are loud, aren't they?"

Mara looked up at the weyrwoman. "Do you feel it too?"

Lessa started to chuckle, but shuddered instead. "Oh, yes!" When Mara smiled knowingly, Lessa moved to her other side and sat down, back against the same wall, up close to the woman. She set the basket of glows down in front of her and put a hand on Mara's arm. "Let's just listen together, shall we?"

Mara laid a large hand over Lessa's. "All right."

They sat together, 'just listening' to the proud, flirtatious, dreamy thoughts of the still-sleeping greens, and the equally proud, confident and often challenging thoughts of the blues, browns and bronzes.

Lessa broke the silence. "Lirabeth is the fastest green in Benden Weyr, and she knows it."

"Duranth really wants to catch her" replied Mara.

"And so does Nylenth, and Caleth, and . . ."

"And Barnoth and Reyuth, but he ate too much." Mara laughed lightly. "But Kayrith wants to catch Plith."

"As do Klanth and Carenth and Sargoth."

"Normond is watching her real close, too."

T'men, lurking in the dark near the door, watched as the women simultaneously drew in slow deep breaths through their noses. Both were smiling radiantly; neither seemed to focus on anything in this small room. He briefly questioned the morality of his presence in this room at this time, but pushed the thought aside, at least for now.

Lessa almost whispered. "They're waking up."

"Oh. They feel so good! Strong and sure of themselves. "

"So vivacious."

"And hungry?"

"Not for food!" Lessa chuckled. "You'll see. Lirabeth is scanning the ridges. She's sure she can outfly all of them."

"They're all so handsome. I've never seen them stand like that."

"They're putting on a display for the greens. Each trying to show that he is best, that he deserves to fly with them."

"Plith is looking for Normond. There he is. He's showing off just for her!"

"Lirabeth is challenging them all. She's daring them to even try to catch her."

"Plith is calling to Normond, and he's answering!"

"Good," said Lessa. She wrapped both hands around Mara's arm as she nearly bounced with anticipation. "Plith has made a choice. Normond will reward her well for that. Lirabeth may have a really good, long flight, but when she gets caught, he'll be tired and anxious to get back to the ground. I think Plith will enjoy this day far more than Lirabeth."

Both women drew in quick breaths. "There they go. Lirabeth is in the lead, flying straight up. Oh, she's a powerful green!" Lessa smiled as she closed her eyes to take in the full effect of Lirabeth's flight.

"Plith is waiting. Most of the dragons are gone, but not Normond. There she goes." Mara laughed. "Right over Normond's head! And straight north. Now she's climbing! Ooohhhh! The power!"

"Feel the wind?"

"It feels so good. Almost cool enough to ease the heat. Maybe higher?"

Lessa laughed. "Only one thing will cool that heat! Oh. Lirabeth is too high. The air's too thin. She's diving. And leveling off. The air is better now. Who's that? NO, it's too soon! Aaahh, she's fighting him. But he's got her tight. If she doesn't stop fighting, he won't be able to spread his wings." Lessa shuddered fiercely. "Oh, shards." When she noticed Mara watching her, she grimaced. "That's all Lirabeth gets. He's let her go now. She's heading home."

T'men, feeling very much like a lowly window peeper now, carefully opened the door, stepped outside the storeroom and leaned hard against the opposite wall to consider what he had just witnessed. He had heard that Lessa could hear dragons and had often wondered what that would be like. He knew that Reyuth and other dragons were talking to Mara, but had no idea that she or Lessa could also feel what the dragons felt. He was always aware of Reyuth, both mentally and physically, but what would it be like to hear and feel more than one dragon at a time?

_We do it all the time._

_How, Reyuth, do you handle so much input all the time?_

_We just do. It's the way it is. How do you handle all the noise at a gather?_

_Good point, my friend. What's happening out there?_

There was a pause as Reyuth considered his answer. _The wherry you made me hunt this morning is digesting well._

T'men fought hard to avoid laughing out loud. _I am so sorry, Reyuth! I truly thought I might be needed here._

_You were wrong, weren't you?_

_Yes, my dearest friend, I was wrong. I promise you, I will never ask you to miss another flight, all right?_

_We'll see, won't we?_

_Will you at least let me know when they land?_

_You will know!_

_Oh, Reyuth, I'm trying very hard to __not__ listen!_

_Serves you right, my dearest friend._

_Touché!_

_Hmmph!_

Inside the storeroom, Lessa grinned wickedly when T'men left the room. An almost harper and a dragonrider who couldn't handle what was happening here? Oh, could she have some fun with this. But, for now, she would focus again on this woman's first experience with dragon mating. It wasn't nearly as bad as she had anticipated; Mara seemed to be enjoying the experience, and by the first egg, Lessa was actually having a little fun, too, thanks in part to Bronze Rider/almost harper T'men.

Mara was smiling, watching something not in the storeroom. "She got away from him. That was almost too easy!"

"Most dragons and riders accept when a green or her rider has made a choice. They'll give her a good flight, and even try to change her mind, but they won't force her."

"She's riding a thermal. She's just floating and rolling, letting the updraft carry her. Here comes Normond. Oh, he's so handsome. She's rolling right up to meet him." She sucked in a big breath. "Oh, he's so strong. And warm. She feels so safe. She's pulling in her wings. He's carrying her with his wings on the thermal." Mara stiffened a bit and began rocking forward and backward, breathing deeply. "Ooohhh, that feels good!" Tears began flowing even as she smiled and laughed quietly. She relaxed a bit and then shuddered, still rocking, still smiling, tears still flowing. "Ooohhh. He's tur . . . " she shuddered again, laughing. "He's turning. She can feel the muscles in his chest working. He's climbing." She shuddered again, and drew in a ragged breath. "Oooohhhh, this is wonderful. Now he's gliding. Right through the clouds! Oh, the moisture feels good." Again she shuddered, still rocking and now crying with the joy Plith was feeling.

Lessa allowed herself to listen in on Plith and laid her head on Mara's shoulder, gripping her arm tightly while ignoring the near numbness in the hand Mara held. They rocked together as Mara continued her narration of the events far over their heads.

Bronze Normond, high over Benden Weyr, caressed Plith as if she were the most precious little green dragon on all of Pern. At the moment, she was the most precious green anywhere. She appreciated his strength and endurance and gentleness and he appreciated her willingness to accept all that he was. He carried her over and around the weyr many times, up and down on the warm and cool air currents, through billowing clouds and close to the fully leafed fragrant tree tops, constantly filling her need for more. When she had nearly been satiated, he gave her all he had left to give, and then held her even longer as they glided in total peace and contentment. He held her until she began to spread her wings, ready, though unwilling, to separate. He let her go and watched her glide and then roll. She flew up and over his massive body, allowing her tail to sweep along his long back before slowly circling down to the bowl of Benden Weyr. He followed lazily, watching her splendid, graceful approach and bugled in delight as she slowed her descent and dove into the middle of the lake.

Mara laughed and shivered. "She dove right in! It's cold!"

Lessa shivered with the cold as well. "And here comes Normond right behind her."

"They're splashing each other!"

"Now they'll lay in the sun for awhile. They need to dry off and rest up."

"Mmmm. The sun feels so warm, and so does he."

"Normond is well known for giving far more than is necessary."

Both women sighed, and then Lessa broke the peace. "Well! Still scared?"

"NO!" Mara's face reddened as her eyes went wide. "How often do they do this?"

Lessa laughed. "Not often enough for someone your age! A little too often for someone my age."

"Is that what it's like with a man?"

Lessa smiled at such innocence. "That depends on the man, I'm sure. Sometimes it's even better!"

"Nooo!"

"Oh, yes!" Lessa patted her arm and started to stand. "You'll see!"

Mara helped Lessa stand with an outstretched arm and then tried to stand herself. Her muscles were cramped and sore as she straightened her legs and then rolled onto hands and knees.

"Should I see if T'men can help?"

Mara shook her head vigorously. "NO! I can do it." She laughed at Lessa's reaction to her adamant refusal, but just wasn't ready to be touched by any man just yet, not while she felt so . . . jittery.

"Fellis?" Lessa grimaced as the big woman stretched, bones popping with each movement.

Mara pleaded with the weyrwoman. "Can I hit that man?"

Lessa laughed. "Only if you warn him first, and give him plenty of time to run! But don't hurt him!"

Now the big woman feigned pouting. "Shards!"

Lessa took Mara by the arm and pulled her to the door. "Come on. The dragons will be returning soon, and we've got Thread to fight this afternoon."

Mara turned back and picked up the glow basket. As she returned to Lessa's side, she asked, "How do you know . . . I mean, how do ask . . ."

Lessa laughed again. "We'll talk some more later. But the short answer is 'You will know'." When she opened the door, there stood T'men.

Lessa glared at the tall man leaning back against the opposite wall with one leg cocked and that annoying 'harper' smile spreading across that sharding handsome face.

Mara tripped on a rise in the floor which may or may not have existed and was caught by the arms of the smiling dragonrider. She felt her face flush and pushed away quickly and awkwardly. "I . . . I gotta go . . ." she looked at Lessa for help, but got none. "I gotta go do something." She spun away, banging into the wall several times before nearly falling into the glow storage nook.

Lessa held a hand over her mouth as the big woman apparently dropped the basket and fumbled to put things right in the nook. She heard a muttered 'Shards' echo from the nook and then managed a charming smile as Mara turned back to them.

"I'll straighten it later."

Lessa nearly doubled over, clasping her mouth to keep any sound contained.

T'men offered an arm to his weyrwoman. When she managed to look up at him, he said in his most charming voice. "I take it all went well?"

"If you hadn't snuck out like a tunnel snake, you'd know how things went!"

T'men wasn't sure if she was angry or teasing. "I am not a voyeur, madam!"

"I thought you wanted to learn something!"

"Oh, I learned a great deal today . . . about my own limitations."

Now Lessa smiled at him. "Good! We are never too old to learn new things." She took his offered arm and started walking. "Or to be reminded of old things."

T'men thought better of asking for any details on her last statement, and just smiled at his surprising weyrwoman.

* * *

Well, this is still my first fanfic and now this is my first mating scene.

Please be kind – this was . . . almost . . . painful.

Hope I did better with the apostrophes. Please review! Many thanks to those of you who do!


	10. Depressed, my arse!

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey: Thank you for allowing me to play with your property!

Geowyn, you made my whole weekend! Thank you for your kind review, but no return e-mail?

* * *

**Later the same day.**

Masterhealer Tarminas was on a mission. He needed to find the woman who had been brought to the weyr almost a sevenday earlier. She had been brutally raped by a group of drunken men and needed to be monitored for the many side effects that could so often occur in such cases. He had obtained all the research available at the Healer Hall in Fort Hold and from the Aivas facility at Landing, and did not want to lose another patient due to lack of follow-up on his part. 'Depression', as his master had called it, had taken his first rape victim just five turns ago. But, he had trouble understanding even the basic concept of depression. How could anyone who had actually survived such an attack possibly be depressed? They had survived, and were healing, and most would even be capable of birthing children. And if someone were suffering from something as painful as depression seemed to be, why would they not ask for help? It was beyond his limits of understanding. But now, fully armed with all the diagnostic tools available, he knew what to look for and he would not allow this patient to 'dance with thread', as was described by one of the witnesses to that poor girls suicide.

As he left the kitchen area, with yet another verbal report stating that 'she's fine', he saw her about to leave the main living cavern. "Mara!" he yelled.

She stopped and turned slowly toward him, lowering the short stack of bed cloths she had been trying to conceal her face with. "Yes, sir?"

"Come here." He pointed to a table close to the entrance. "We need to talk." He set his clipboard and a small stoppered vial on the table.

"What's that?" She had not moved forward.

"My notes, and fellis juice."

She shook her head and took a step backward. "I don't need fellis." She backed right into a wall. "I have work to do." She turned toward the entrance. "I have to get these to the weyrling barracks." And she was gone.

"Mara!" he yelled again. He picked up his clipboard and vial and walked out of the cavern shaking his head. "Definitely in denial" he said to himself as he walked. He looked toward the weyrling barracks at the far end of the bowl. "That's a long way to walk." But he had to talk to her, so began the long trek.

There was a group of dragons – they were rather small, thought the healer - crouching in what appeared to be some kind of formation. Mara walked around the group. The healer was amazed at how many of the beast heads turned in her direction, but it didn't seem to faze her. As he continued walking, she disappeared into the barracks.

The healer cut a wide path around the group of huge beasts. Even these smallish monsters dwarfed the young people standing next to them. He spotted Mara exiting the barracks. She stopped to speak with one of the men outside, and seemed to be bouncing! 'How . . . suggestive', he thought to himself in disgust. The healer quickened his pace when he saw the smiling man put a hand on her shoulder. What was he doing? 'He must be one of those bronze riders' he thought. He hurried as fast as he was able, but grew furious when the man pushed Mara off in the opposite direction. "Mara!" he yelled, but was certain she didn't hear over the loud chanting of the young people with that group of dragons. So he confronted the man who was now grinning lasciviously at the retreating woman.

"Where's she off to now?" the healer demanded.

The man turned slowly and seemed to grow taller and wider as he turned. "Who?" he growled back at the healer.

"Mara!" the healer nearly shouted. "You were just talking to her! Where is she going?"

The man crossed his arms over his now massive chest. "She's going to the kitchen." He spoke with calm control.

Tarminas fumed. "Why?" He shook his head to negate the question. "Who are you?" Was this man missing a few glows?

"I, Masterhealer Tarminas, most recently of High Reaches Hold, am Weyrlingmaster L'ret, rider of brown Duranth. And Mara is running errands for me today."

"But, she should be resting! You are aware that she was raped less than a sevenday ago?"

L'ret studied the healer. "I, and everyone else in this weyr, are well aware of what occurred at Keroon Gather. And with all that energy, if Mara even tries to 'rest', she will surely explode."

"But all that energy could be just hiding her feelings about the rape!"

L'ret let out a bellow. "She doesn't know how to hide her feelings about anything! That energy is most likely due to the greens flying earlier."

Tarminas was shocked. He was not prepared to speak, or even think, about some bestial mating ritual.

"You do know that she hears dragons, don't you?" L'ret feigned gentleness, but was becoming highly amused.

"Yes, but . . . "

"Argh. You must be hold-bred."

"That is totally irrelevant!" The healer's fury resurfaced. "Rape victims typically experience feelings of . . . "

"Rape 'victims'?" L'ret was no longer amused. "From what I understand, Masterhealer," the last word sounded almost like a curse, "a 'victim' is only a 'victim' as long as that person allows themselves to be victimized. That woman has moved beyond what happened in her past and is moving on to a much brighter and happier future. She is no more a victim than I am."

"Would you even recognize the signs of depression . . . " he was cut off by another loud bellow.

"Depression! Mara? Have you talked to her at all in the last sevenday?"

This deflated the healer somewhat. "No. She keeps running away."

L'ret maintained his training voice. "Because you keep forcing fellis down her throat! She doesn't need fellis anymore than I do for the splinter I took earlier today."

Furious again, Tarminas shot back "You're not a healer!"

"No, I am not! But I know healthy flesh and healthy minds when I see them. All Mara needs is something to do to make her feel needed here. I can give her that – can you?"

"She needs to be monitored."

His patience stretched to a breaking point, L'ret grinned wickedly. "Oh, I'm monitoring her – very closely sometimes."

"She needs monitoring by a professional!"

"Oh, I'm a professional. Just ask any of the ladies in this weyr."

"She needs medication!"

L'ret's patience was now a distant memory. "Medication, my dragon-flattened arse! If you come around here pushing your fellis on her again, I'll let my brown dragon see what a skinny healer tastes like."

The healer was flabbergasted. His mouth worked as if trying to say something even as his eyes first shot wide open with fear and then squinted with fury.

L'ret leaned his head back and hollered at the very top of his lungs. "Duranth! You hungry?"

From high on the ridge above them, a single dragon let out a loud ferocious bugle.

Tarminas backed quickly up to the wall and quickly made his way north, not an easy task with one hand on the wall and head turned to the sky.

Weyrlingmaster L'ret allowed one side of his mouth to twitch up before noticing the laughter coming from the ranks of young dragonriders nearby. He turned and glared at them. When laughter continued, he bellowed. "Get back to work you lazy fools, or I'll let Duranth taste a few weyrlings."

As Mara crossed the bowl, she saw G'raden leaving one of the small curtained caves. Lessa had called them 'occasional rooms' she reminded herself. He smiled until he turned away from the room. And then he seemed to be sad. Mara decided to find out why. She walked as quickly as she could to meet him part way to Normond, who was lying in the sun next to Plith near the lake. He stopped when he noticed her approaching and looked to either side. Mara caught the motion and grew worried. She stopped a few paces from him. "G'raden, are you all right?"

He smiled halfheartedly and let out a small chuckle. "I'm . . . fine." He looked past her toward his bronze dragon. "But, we need to get ready for Thread." He seemed apologetic as he skirted around her maintaining their distance. "Can we talk later?"

Mara nodded and watched him walk away. She sighed and turned back toward the kitchen and her original errand.

Wingleader T'men had been discussing flying formations with some of his wing members when he noticed G'radens exit from the occasional room and his subsequent encounter with Mara. It bothered him that her usual easy smile was not present. He excused himself from the group and set a course to meet her near the entrance to the main living cavern.

He caught up to her some twenty paces from the entrance. "Hey!" He grinned when she jumped. "You all right?"

She grimaced and then forced a smile. "Yes." When he frowned with exaggerated disbelief, she smiled more naturally. "But, something's bothering G'raden."

"Mmmm." He nodded. "Do you know why he was in that room?"

Mara nodded and rolled her eyes as if any dimglow would know the answer to that question. When her new teacher crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, she knew, from their few sessions so far, that he was waiting for the words. "He was mating with Plith's rider."

T'men wondered if she truly understood what those words entailed. "I think maybe G'raden was embarrassed when he saw you."

"Why? He was just doing his job!"

"He might be worried that you would be upset with him."

"But, it's his job. Normond needs to fly the greens, and G'raden needs to mate the green's rider. Why would I get upset?" Even as she asked the question, she found herself becoming upset and made an effort to control her emotions.

"It doesn't bother you that he spent time with another woman?"

"It's his job! And we're just friends."

"Maybe G'raden would like to be more than friends and worries that this will scare you away."

Now she was getting angry, but she wasn't sure who with. "Well, he's wrong! It would take more than that to scare me away."

"You're really all right with this?"

"It's the way it is."

"And you can be happy with the way it is?"

"I can accept the way it is." She seemed to want to say more.

T'men waited, but then asked "What?"

In embarrassed desperation, she resumed her bouncing and shook her hands in the air. "I just don't know what to do with all this . . . "

"Energy?"

"Energy."

He sighed. "After Thread, you talk to G'raden. He should know how to help you. If he doesn't, for whatever reason, you find me. We'll figure it out."

"Thanks, T'men" she said sincerely.

T'men returned to his wing and Mara looked around the bowl for G'raden, but didn't see him. _Normond?_

_Yes, Mara!_

_How are you feeling this fine day?_

_I feel very good! Ready to fight Thread!_

_Good. Would you mind passing a message to G'raden?_

_Not at all._

_Will you please tell him that I understand, and that I'm not upset, and that I won't be scared away, and . . . _she laughed at herself _. . . and you be safe out there, Normond. Both of you, all right?_

_We will be safe, Mara, I promise and so does G'raden._

She started again for the kitchen.

_Do you wish us to fly safe as well?_

She stopped and turned to face the source of the last question. _Of course I do, Mnementh! I wish you all to fly safe, every day!_ She wondered how much of her message he had overheard.

_All of it. Perhaps later you will explain?_

_I will not!_

F'lar turned from fastening straps on Mnementh and raised a hand to her. He lowered that hand to his waist and bowed with a flourish.

Mara jammed her hands on her hips and glared. _How rude!_ she thought not very quietly, and then found herself laughing as the weyrleader ducked away from something being thrown from the weyrwoman's ledge. When the weyrwoman turned her way, Mara waved and smiled a 'thank you'. When Lessa turned back to Ramoth, Mara turned back toward the kitchen. She'd better hurry, she thought. How long had she been gone already?

Journeywoman Healer Loralin was overseeing the set-up of the outside first aid stations being placed at key locations within the bowl. She was talking with one of the dragon healers at the station nearest the main cavern when she noticed Masterhealer Tarminas approaching. "What happened to him?"

The healer she had been talking to turned to see what had caused such concern. "Oh, he doesn't look very good."

Loralin walked to the healer who seemed to be hugging the wall. "Tarminas! What's wrong?"

Tarminas barely looked at her; he was busy looking around the bowl and into the sky. "That man, L'ret. He threatened to feed me to his dragon!"

Laughter broke out at the first aid station behind her, but Loralin kept a straight face on realizing how frightened he was. She took him by the shoulders. "Tarminas" she said gently. When he continued scanning the sky, she shook him. "Master!" That got his attention. "Dragons do not eat people."

"They don't?" His fear soon transformed into disbelief. "Then why . . ."

Loralin dropped her hands to her hips. "L'ret is the biggest soft touch in this weyr. What did you do to make him so angry?"

"I didn't do anything. I told him Mara needs to be monitored for depression."

"Ohhh. I see. Have you talked to her lately?"

"No, I haven't talked to her! She's avoiding me!"

"Then we should set aside some time to just talk to her. You might be surprised, Master Tarminas!

Thread fall would begin just before the normal mid-day meal and be a long one this day, so riders were each given carisacs containing travel rations as well as skins of restorative enhanced wine and water.

Mara was not allowed to deliver carisacs for fear of her 'energy' distracting some of the riders. She was quickly kicked out of the kitchen when a male drudge slicing vegetables chopped off the tip of a finger. The healers at the first aid stations didn't need her help and at the weyrling barracks she was told firmly to stay out of the way. So she walked the same path she had walked in the last fall along the eastern wall of the bowl, 'just listening'.

The first major casualty didn't occur until about midway through fall. Blue dragon Simoneth and his rider, T'mith, were both badly scored along one side. Mara listened carefully, but stayed near the wall until Simoneth started becoming agitated. Mara walked quickly toward the increasingly frantic dragon.

_Simoneth!_

_I can't hear T'mith. It was just thread score._

_Simoneth! Calm down! You listen to me while I talk to the healers. All right?_

When she reached the distraught blue dragon, Mara placed a hand on his large neck and tried to project calmness. As one of the healers approached, she asked "What happened to T'mith?"

The healer shook her head. "It's just thread score. He'll be fine!"

"Then why can't Simoneth hear him?" Mara demanded.

The healer shook her head again, this time apparently biting back words best not said. She finally spoke very carefully. "Fellis. We tried to tell him we use smaller doses here, but . . ." She shrugged her shoulders.

Mara grimaced, but the healer tilted her head apologetically. Mara turned back to Simoneth.

_Did you hear, Simoneth? T'mith will be fine. He's just sleeping._

_But, I can't hear him. If he's only sleeping, I should hear him._

_He's sleeping really deep, Simoneth. You calm down so the healers can help you and I'll go check on T'mith. All right?_

_All right._

Mara nodded to the healers who were already approaching the noticeably calmer blue dragon. "Where's T'mith?" Someone pointed her in the direction of one of caverns. When Mara saw the Masterhealer step from behind the curtain, she prepared for a fight. She walked in a way that left no question as to her intent.

Tarminas saw her coming and stepped in front of her. "You can't go in there."

Mara swept him aside with one arm and entered the well-lit room. "Where's T'mith?" One of the healers and a couple of riders with minor scores all pointed to the appropriate bed. Mara nodded at each of them and approached the unconscious blue rider.

"There he is Simoneth." She spoke aloud so all could hear why she was even in the room.

Tarminas was outraged. He grabbed the big woman by an arm, but quickly found a fist slammed almost into his belly, just close enough to cause him to stagger. One of the injured riders came to his side and a healer held his other arm. "Just watch and listen" said the rider.

Mara knelt down next to T'mith and placed a hand on his bare, young chest. "Feel that, Simoneth? He's breathing, full and deep. Feel his heartbeat? It's strong and regular." She ran her other hand across his forehead and down the side of his face. "He looks peaceful, doesn't he? And no fever, feel that? Good. All right." She began surveying his limp body, keeping her hand on his chest. "Looks like just thread-score." She focused on one of the healers. "Is anything broken?"

The healer knelt next to her, smiling for the benefit of Simoneth. "Nothing is broken, and the thread didn't even score deeply. Just skin and a little bit of muscle."

Tarminas was livid with disbelief. He looked at the healer holding his left arm. "Why is she explaining our patient's condition with that . . . that drudge?"

The wounded rider on his right arm jerked the healer around to face him. As the healer looked up to the rider's burly face, the rider forced a smile. "I was a drudge before I impressed my brown Barnoth." When the healer's jaw dropped, the rider pulled him aside. "Let's talk, shall we?"

Masterhealer Tarminas never noticed T'mith being carried back outside to be placed within reach of Simoneth. He never saw how the blue dragon draped his head over the rider's upper body placing the man's face within inches of the sensitive throat at the junction of neck and muzzle. And he never saw how much easier it had become for the dragon healers to do their work on Simoneth. The healer did, however, gain a great deal of insight into the dragon and rider mental bond. And he learned that drudges are not all simple-minded dimglows.

Evening meal was extremely informal, due to the late Thread fall. Riders came and went, most too tired to even sit and talk. Blue and green riders who flew the first half of the fall sat at tables, but most bronze and brown riders simply took what they could carry to their weyrs. Mara was helping keep trays stocked on the long tables separating the eating area from the preparation area. Skins of water or wine were made available as well as the usual mugs and cups.

G'raden stumbled through a line of riders at the long tables. Mara watched him as he moved – he seemed dazed, or maybe just half asleep. He picked up two meat rolls and a sweet roll and placed them in a small carisac.

Mara, standing on the other side of the table, said simply "Hello, G'raden."

He looked up and smiled warmly. "Hello, Mara." He was knocked off balance by a rider behind him and moved on, looking at what was on the table, apparently forgetting that he had even been talking to Mara.

The head kitchener moved in next to Mara. "You've had a long day. Take the rest of the evening off, girl."

Mara thanked her and moved around the table to meet G'raden. He seemed oblivious to her presence. She put a hand on his arm. "Water or wine?"

The dazed rider looked up and seemed surprised to see her. "Uh, water, please."

She took a water skin from the table and walked with him. "Are you all right?"

Again, he seemed surprised. "Just tired."

Mara tried to lead him to a chair. "Sit down for a bit."

"I need to go to my weyr." He covered her hand with his and turned his big brown eyes to search her face. "Will you come with me?" he almost pleaded.

She caught her jaw before it dropped too far and smiled shyly, hoping she wasn't making a mistake. "All right."

"I'm really tired, but I'd really like to hold you, Mara."

"I'd like that."

His hand still over hers, he led her outside where bronze Normond crouched near the entrance to the cavern. Mara noticed that his color wasn't as bright as normal, but didn't get a chance to comment.

G'raden moved Mara toward Normond's midsection. "Just watch." He stepped onto the dragon's forearm and then to Mara's utter amazement, sat on the dragon's muzzle.

Mara grinned as he was lifted up above Normond's wing joints, carefully stepped off, walked forward, and sat down. Her jaw dropped as Normond lowered his head and looked at her. "My turn?" The big bronze head nodded, so she moved toward the outstretched forearm. She groaned slightly as she stepped up, almost losing her balance if not for a well placed muzzle. She sat very carefully, keeping her hands on Normond's side, toes pointed in and held back to avoid kicking him. She giggled as she walked her hands up the dragon's soft, warm side and then up G'raden's leg. She took G'raden's outstretched hand and stepped carefully onto Normond's back, put her other hand on the rider's shoulder and carefully sat down. "Thank you, Normond!"

_Any time._

G'raden reached back and, hands on Mara's hips, pulled her up close to his back. "Hold on." When Mara put her hands to the sides of his waist, G'raden took those hands and wrapped her arms firmly around his waist and patted her hands firmly.

Mara flushed deeply from the sensations caused by so much close contact. She could not remember ever being in this much contact with a man, but realized that she would probably like to be even closer. She faintly heard 'if I lean, you lean' and then he began leaning, first to the left, then to the right and then forward and back to upright. She stayed with him, not wishing to lose the feelings washing over her.

"Good" said G'raden. "Let's go, Normond."

Mara leaned forward with G'raden as Normond lifted his massive body up onto his hind legs. She watched the entrance of the cavern and the people inside drop below eye level. When the Masterhealer appeared in the entrance, she looked to her other side. People were turning away, some covering mugs with their hands. As Normond launched into the air, Mara lay her head on G'raden's wide back and marveled at the power she could feel beneath her legs and backside. She watched Normond's wing stretch out to his side and above her. When Normond took his first down stroke with those beautiful wings and started to level off, she leaned back with G'raden, feeling wind in her short hair and joy like she had never felt before. Each down stroke lifted them higher above the floor of the bowl and Mara was fascinated with how people and dragons grew smaller. She nearly panicked when she saw that they were approaching the south wall of the rocky ridges, but Normond banked and missed the wall by more than a dragon-length. Mara looked down through the turn and was thrilled to see the floor of the bowl appear to be at her side. She laughed as they flew near the eastern wall, gaining altitude with each powerful stroke of Normond's wings. Below, in the entrance to the main cavern, she could make out the Masterhealer raising a fist into the air. She tried to wave back, but G'raden caught her hand and held it tight. She loved the feel of his big meaty soft hand on hers, and she loved the feel of his big strong body in her arms, and the feel of Normond beneath them, and the feel of the wind on her face. As they rose above the shadows, she clenched her eyes closed against the lowering sun, and kept them closed through Normond's next bank to the left. The slight disorientation she felt was quickly offset by the total security she felt in being on this dragon behind this man. She laughed again, eyes still closed, as they straightened out and gained even more altitude. When the down strokes ceased, she opened her eyes and saw that they were almost to the top of the very highest ridges. Normond held his wings steady as they glided toward a small hole in the south wall. A downdraft nearly separated riders from dragon; Normond's quick wing adjustment righted the situation, but not before Mara held even tighter to G'raden. She heard him laugh and could feel that laugh through her chest. She squeezed a little tighter as they approached the south wall, Normond's wings tilting down in back to slow their descent. They seemed to be floating now and Mara leaned forward with G'raden as Normond lowered his hind quarters and reached down and forward for the edge of the ledge of his weyr. Mara was surprised at how smoothly Normond absorbed the shock of the landing and gracefully leaned forward, as G'raden leaned back, to place his forearms down on the rock ledge. Normond took a few small, slightly awkward steps and then stopped and crouched low.

G'raden laughed as he patted Mara's arms. "You can let go now."

"Oh, sorry." She let lose her grip on the man and, placing her hands behind her, scooted back a bit.

G'raden hoisted one leg over Normond's back, sat sideways and turned to see Mara, red-faced, smiling from ear to ear, nearly bouncing where she sat. He smiled at her and nodded, not quite sure what he had expected from this woman. He patted her knee and slid down Normond's side to the floor of the weyr. When he turned and looked up, he was surprised to see that Mara was already sitting sideways. As she began to slide, her eyes grew wide and she reached for him. G'raden caught her under the arms and slowed her landing.

Mara bounced back from her landing, reached her arms up and over G'raden's shoulders and hugged him tight. "Thank you, G'raden! That was amazing!"

The big man laughed as he returned her appreciative hug. "Normond did all the hard work. I was just something to hold on to."

Mara let go, moved back, sliding her arms over his shoulders and then leaned forward to kiss his cheek before turning to place both hands on Normond's side. "Thank you, Normond! That was beautiful!"

T'men finished a small meal in the living cavern. As he passed the entrance, he couldn't help but notice the Masterhealer standing just outside. The man was shaking his fist in the air. "What's wrong, Tarminas?"

"That man, that bronze rider! He took her on his dragon." He pointed toward the sky.

T'men looked up and found Normond flying with two riders, the setting sun glinting off the passenger's teeth. "Who'd he take?"

"Mara. She should be resting, not flying a dragon to who knows where!"

They both watched as Normond flew into a hole high on the south wall. "Shards! That's G'raden." T'men fought a smile as he turned to the healer.

"G'raden" he repeated the name as if trying to remember. "Why shards?"

"If she hadn't gone with him, I think I had her talked in to going with me." T'men winked at the healer and walked away knowing full well what the healer was most likely thinking. "Ah, well," he shrugged. "Maybe next time." If the fool took half as much interest in the people of this weyr as he did in their injuries, he would already know that he had nothing to worry about. As he heard the healer take a breath to speak, he bellowed "Reyuth?" The big bronze landed on queue and T'men launched onto his back. When he turned toward the cavern entrance, he found the healer standing inside. "There are no secrets in a weyr, Tarminas, as long as you keep your eyes open and your ears unplugged." Just for fun, he waved at the retreating healer as Reyuth sprang into the air.

After checking Normond's couch for any loose stones and making certain that his big bronze dragon was comfortable, G'raden led Mara further back into the weyr. He held back the curtain to his sleeping room and waited for her to pass through before reaching for the glow basket set high on the wall just inside. He stood near the dropped curtain and watched as she walked further into the room. He grinned when her eyes snapped a little too quickly away from his bed. "So," he bit back a chuckle when she jumped. "How are you feeling?" He put a hand on his stomach. He watched as she bounced in place and couldn't help but notice her whole body was shaking. Was that fear, or something else?

"I feel great!"

He held out a hand, palm up. "May I see how you feel?"

Mara took a deep breath and moved toward him, placing her hand in his. She shook so bad that her hand almost bounced out of his. She chuckled and held his hand tight as she walked closer to those big smiling brown eyes. She feared she might faint when he put his free hand on her waist, and took a deep breath when he used that hand to turn her into his other arm with her back to his front. She closed her eyes when the free hand moved to the other side of her waist and felt a little moan squeak past her lips as the hand slid to the middle of her quivering belly.

G'raden suppressed a chuckle and bent his head down next to hers. _That's not fear_ he thought. He spoke quietly near her ear. "You do feel great." He didn't tell her that something still wasn't quite right inside. "May I help you get rid of all that excitement you're feeling?"

She turned her head to look again into those brown eyes and barely whispered. "Please."

G'raden pulled his hand tighter into her belly. "Put your head back."

Mara did as instructed, confused, but trusting. As she laid her head back on his shoulder, his big hand grew warmer and warmer until it was almost hot. She felt a tingling sensation all through her body, from the tips of her toes to the very tips of each hair on her head. She held his other hand tighter with both of her hands now as the tingling seemed to swirl through each limb of her body. His hand in hers moved up so his arm lay across her heaving chest. The tingling continued to swirl and seemed to swoosh all at once into his hot hand at her belly, like the water in the latrine when the handle was pulled. She laughed at the comparison and would have crumpled to the floor were it not for the strong arm across her chest. She felt suddenly drained. "What did you do?"

G'raden held her tight until she found some strength in her legs. "I took that energy. Now you can sleep."

Mara began laughing softly. "I thought you wanted to hold me."

G'raden squeezed. "I am holding you. And I hope you'll let me hold you all night long."

Mara turned in his arms and noticed immediately how much his efforts had taken from this big man. He was suddenly even more unsteady on his feet and he had to work hard to keep his eyes open. She slid under his arm to support him with her shoulder and led him toward his bed.

He kissed the side of her head. "I need to bathe." When she turned a disbelieving scowl at him, he chuckled. "I won't be long." He walked unsteadily to a small storage nook in the far wall and removed a small item of clothing. Pointing at the bed, he said "Have a seat. Lay down if you'd like." Smiling, he walked slowly past a curtain that Mara guessed led to the necessary room.

Mara wrapped her arms across her belly and turned slowly where she stood. This sleeping room was larger than the one she was staying in, but felt so much cozier. Maybe it was the curvy walls – there was no separation between walls and the ceiling. The walls at the floor had been chiseled out, though, to allow more room for furnishings. She turned again, studying the furnishings. The head of the bed was against one wall, a small chest a pace away, then there was a storage nook in the wall, the necessary room and then a small desk with a copy of the Charter set to the back. And then she was looking at the curtain to Normond's lair. It was a beautiful weaving that hung from floor to ceiling, with a very realistic rendition of dragons flying in formation, bronzes near the top, then browns, then blues, then greens, and near the bottom of the hanging, several beautiful gold dragons. When she looked closely, she noticed long hair of different colors streaming from the heads of the gold riders. She laughed and then noticed long hair on some of the green riders as well. Faces were non-discernable, but that was understandable due to the scale of the piece, but the weaver had definitely made it clear that not all dragonriders were men.

Mara yawned deeply, surprised that she could be so tired after having so much energy all this long day. G'raden really did take that energy! She hoped that what he took would help him feel better. She walked to the bed and noticed, for the first time, that the covering also had a dragon woven into the fabric. This was a large bronze dragon curled up on a rocky ledge, eyes closed, sunlight from one side placing shadows in all the right places to highlight the strength and beauty of the sleeping giant.

She pulled a well-stuffed pillow from under the covering and worried only briefly about laying her not very clean head on it. She kicked off her shoes, put her head on the pillow and was sound asleep before her legs made it to the top of the bed.


	11. A hatching at Benden Weyr

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey: Thank you for allowing me to play with your property!

WARNING: Death and angst involved, but no gore. (Also, no more lairs. :))

* * *

**Next Day**

Mara woke to a gentle breeze that carried the scent of raw wherry and firestone ash. She was lying on her left side, her back to a large warm presence, with a large furry arm holding her right hand tight to her left shoulder – G'raden. She marveled at how wonderful she felt; warm and safe and well rested. What had happened after she laid down last evening? G'raden had been bathing, she lay down, and now she was waking up in his arms. She moved a leg, preparing to rise, and noticed that she still wore trousers. She moved her free hand to her waist and found she still wore a tunic. Had she missed something? She opened her eyes to the dimly lit room. An indirect light source barely illuminated the woven curtain of dragons hanging between G'raden's sleeping room and Normond's weyr. The lighting brought the dragons to life as the curtain swayed. Another breeze caused the curtain to billow into the room, followed by more raw wherry and firestone.

_Normond? Is that you?_

Two short huffs came from the other side of the curtain. _G'raden doesn't like to be woke up suddenly._

_Oh. Maybe I can help._ The arm was heavy, but once she lifted it far enough to start moving, G'raden pulled it back. When he grumbled a complaint, Mara spoke quietly. "I'll be right back." As she walked barefoot to the necessary room, she watched the big dark haired man roll to his back and stretch. He wore only a pair of lightweight shorts. Had anything happened? She hoped not as she hurried to get past the curtain. How truly sad it would be to forget or sleep through what she had hoped for.

As G'raden stretched, arms hitting the wall at the head of his bed and toes reaching over the other end, he took a deep breath and grimaced with disgust. He turned his head to sniff an arm pit – that wasn't the source. _Normond? Did you wake her up?_

_I was trying to wake __you__ up, my rested one._

_Why? It's a rest day!_

_Tell that to the eggs._

"What about the eggs?" Mara tried to smooth the wrinkles out of her clothing as she returned.

G'raden was out of bed and about to don his trousers. "They're hatching today." He grinned at Mara and then spoke to the air. "How soon, Normond?" His excitement was evident and contagious. Only Normond seemed somewhat calm.

_We can hear them now. You have time to eat._

"Good. Mara, you should bathe." He looked at her obviously slept-in clothes and his eyebrows rose. "I think I have some clothes that will fit you.

Mara, excited at the prospect of witnessing a Hatching for the first time, began lifting her tunic as she slipped back through the curtain to the bathing room. After reopening the glows, she tossed the tunic on the stone bench, removed her trousers, tossed them and stepped into the gurgling hot pool. A neat stack of small folded cleaning clothes sat near a container of sweet sand at the edge. She washed quickly, wishing she could spend more time, but not wanting to miss anything happening on the Hatching Ground.

G'raden rummaged through his bedside chest and found what he was looking for. He held a lightweight pair of loosely woven medium toned green trousers to his waist and smiled with remembrance. The trousers didn't quite reach halfway around his waist. He shook them out and frowned at the fold marks caused by years of storage. He held up a matching tunic, shook it out and laid it over an arm. He picked up the trousers and hurried to the curtain of the necessary room.

On hearing sufficient splashing from the pool, he backed in, keeping his face to the wall. "Mara, I'm hanging these in here so the wrinkles will be steamed out." The splashing had stopped when he began speaking. "Hurry now!" He moved back to the curtain, carefully watching the wall, and left.

In his sleeping room again, G'raden quickly straightened the bed cloths while bespeaking his bronze dragon. _Normond, do Lessa and F'lar need help conveying people?_

_No. You are to convey Mara directly to Lessa. She strongly suggests riding straps and full riding gear._

G'raden nearly ran to the ledge and began preparing Normond, who was busy observing all the activity at the other end of the bowl. Even in a rush such as this, the experienced bronze rider meticulously inspected each strap and buckle before throwing it over or under the crouching dragon.

As the last buckle was being fastened, Mara walked past the flying dragon curtain, carrying last night's small carisac. G'raden finished with the straps and watched her approach, smiling broadly. Mara blushed at seeing G'raden's appreciative smile, not sure of the reason. The big man walked to meet her halfway through the weyr, fascinated by the way the outfit highlighted the green in her hazel eyes, and held out his hands. "That looks far better on you than it ever did on me!"

"I can't imagine you wearing this." She opened the carisac.

"I never did. It's too small."

"Then why . . ." She pulled out the two meatrolls.

G'raden let out one big guffaw. "It was a gift . . . from a weyrmate. She wasn't very good at guessing sizes."

Mara's eyes grew big. "Will she get upset if she sees me wearing it?"

"She doesn't live at Benden Weyr anymore."

_G'raden?_ Normond was shifting impatiently from side to side.

"Coming, love." G'raden took one of the meatrolls, took a big bite, took the carisac from Mara and tossed it to Normond's indented rock couch. "We better hurry!" he mumbled.

He took his riding jacket from a wall peg, slid it over one arm and handed Mara his meatroll before slipping into the other sleeve and climbing up Normond's riding straps. He turned back to Mara, caught the two meatrolls she tossed at him, and watched as she followed his example, helping with an outstretched arm.

Mara settled behind the big rider and wrapped both arms around him, being careful not to damage her meatroll. "G'raden?" she asked near his ear. "What happened last night?"

G'raden had just taken another bite out of his meatroll. "Hmmm?"

"After your bath?"

"We slept."

_We go now!_ Normond's thought was barely complete when he stepped off the ledge.

Mara held tighter as the near freefall lifted her from the dragon's back. The exhilaration was short-lived as Normond spread his wings to slow their descent. They glided smoothly on a straight course to the Hatching Grounds at the far end of the mile long bowl, buffeted only slightly by morning breezes. The summer mountain air was cool, crisp and dry. The bowl was nearly empty of people; the last groups were entering the large entrance as Normond approached. He landed barely a dragon-length from the entrance just as smoothly as the night before.

Weyrwoman Lessa stood just outside the grounds, and motioned G'raden and Mara to hurry. The bronze rider slid off the dragon's side and turned to smoothly catch Mara. They each took a bite of their meatrolls as they moved quickly to enter the enormous Hatching Grounds.

Lessa met them and spoke sternly to Mara. "It is very important that you 'just listen' today, understood?" She took Mara's hand firmly – physical contact made it easier to monitor the big woman.

"Yes, Lessa." Mara nodded with an excited grin as the weyrwoman led her inside and to the top of the steps just inside the entrance. The noise was almost deafening; excited, expectant talking from people and the flapping of dragon and fire lizard wings, and their grunts, huffs and chirps. As they moved quickly, Mara looked around and noticed the many ledges all around the inside of the huge cavern. Each ledge was packed with dragons; smaller ledges were packed with fire lizards. Mara hadn't seen any fire lizards at Benden Weyr since her arrival and wondered who they all belonged to.

Weyrleader F'lar was at the top row of seating next to a man who Mara believed just had to be related and a woman with haunted eyes. Bronze rider T'men sat one level down next to a tall handsome man in harper blue. Next to him was Journeywoman Healer Loralin, an old hunchbacked man and Masterhealer Tarminas. Everyone appeared to be smiling with the anticipation of the event, with the exception of the Weyr Masterhealer, who seemed rather nervous and extremely uncomfortable.

F'lar stood to greet his weyrmate. As soon as Lessa, Mara and G'raden were seated, he squinted challengingly at the big woman. "Mara, how many of each color?" He gestured toward the floor of the cavern and the multitude of mottled eggs.

Mara caught a disgruntled scowl from Lessa. The big woman studied the twenty-eight eggs and then grimaced apologetically at the weyrleader. "I can't keep track."

T'men turned on his bench and handed Mara a small pad of neatly cut paper and a pencil. "Use these."

When Lessa laughed and shook her head, Mara reached forward and took the offering between fingers that were not holding her meatroll. "Thank you." She took a big bite out of the roll and thought about putting it on her knees, but dismissed the idea, not wanting to dirty G'raden's clothes. She turned to the bronze rider at her side and offered it to him. He obligingly took it from her. Lessa let go of her hand and gripped her upper arm to allow full use of both hands. Mara wrote the five colors down the side of the small page and studied the eggs again, placing tick marks next to each color. She then counted the tick marks and wrote the appropriate number next to each color; Gold – one, Bronz – four, Brown - five, Blue – nine, and Green – ten.

She handed the pad and pencil to T'men, who added an 'e' to 'bronze' and nodded approval as he handed it back to her. She handed the pad to Lessa, who looked at it and nodded. Lessa passed the pad to F'lar, who nodded and smiled. F'lar then handed it to the man next to him, who scrunched his face into a pained frown and shook his head. He turned the pad to the small woman at his side, and she just shrugged her shoulders. The pad was handed back to F'lar, who tore off the top page and handed it back to T'men just as the dragons and fire lizards began their low welcoming croon.

The noise, except for the growing croon, subsided quickly as sixty young people, all wearing simple white robes and thick-soled sandals, were led hastily onto the sands to form a semi-circle around the eggs. Most of the eggs were already rocking as the escorts moved to outside walls.

Mara felt slightly dizzy as she realized the entire mountain seemed to be vibrating with the dragon's welcome. Lessa's sparkling eyes caught her attention. "Do you hear them?" she asked the slack-jawed woman.

Mara nodded. "They're excited . . . and hungry!" She pointed to the far wall. "Except for that small one."

"They don't all survive."

A loud snap caused a collective gasp as hundreds of people all held their breaths. Several other eggs cracked all at the same time. One of them shattered as a small wet-darkened bronze dragonet jumped free of the shell. Held breaths were released into relieved sighs and a few laughs.

"Good sign" Lessa said to Mara.

The little bronze wobbled on his hind legs as he searched the line of candidates and let loose an ear-splitting squawk as he found his mate. He wobbled awkwardly toward a young man encouraging him with "Come on, Fradeth. Here I am." The boys face seemed lit from inside with joy which turned to slight worry as more dragonets emerged from their shells to block the path of his Fradeth. He kept up the encouragement, moving sideways in the line to shorten his little bronzes trek. Fradeth tripped over a little blue and rolled almost gracefully, squawking angrily even as he landed upright, and kept moving, around a little brown and two greens, and finally, desperate to reach his goal, over the top of another green, drawing ichor as he lunged the last small distance toward the now kneeling youngster with tears running freely down his glowing face.

A young woman ran around the outside of the semi-circle and past Fradeth in to the little green who was squawking pitifully at the painful punctures in her back. The girl picked up the green, who she called Dirth, and carefully made her way through other pairs to the healers near the walls.

Mara let out an unintentional squeak as dragonets jumped or climbed or rolled out of eggs all within heartbeats of each other. She covered her mouth to prevent a reoccurrence when G'raden laughed at her excitement. The frenzy below was almost too much to take in. Only one young man was injured when he tried to step between a bronze and his selected mate. And then suddenly, there were only two eggs still unhatched.

The junior queen's rider gently, but firmly, encouraged her golden dragon away from the largest egg of them all. It was rocking steadily as the sands cleared of matched dragonet pairs and unimpressed boys, as if waiting for a grand entrance.

Lessa squeezed Mara's hand to get her attention. "Just listening?"

Mara nodded. "Her name is Biradeth." Lessa was about to order G'raden to remove her when Mara continued. "She's looking for Tianna."

A small talon pierced the egg shell near the ground. A crack began to form around the shell in a nearly straight line. And then the shell simple fell apart. A very regal, but wet and wobbly golden dragonet rose up between the halves of the shell and surveyed the remaining girls standing around her. She looked into the eyes of a tall brunette and squawked once before waddling, not too gracefully, from the remains of her last home. Tianna smiled beautifully and stood gracefully, waiting as her little queen approached. She bent down to caress Biradeth's head only after the little gold nudged her thigh.

The remaining girls were led off the hot sands as Tianna led Biradeth with one hand caressing the little gold's neck next to her thigh, crooning "I know you're famished. We seek food right now. Come, Biradeth."

As the stands cleared of mostly joyful people; parents and friends of those who impressed, as well as those always thrilled by a good hatching; and some rather disgruntled people; pompous parents who believed their child deserved or had earned the right to impress, Mara and G'raden stayed at the top of the stands to watch. Lessa and F'lar were impressive with their congratulations and condolences, one or the other of them always calling the recipient by name.

Mara watched the small egg as it occasionally rocked, and listened. "G'raden, that little egg is alive. I can hear it."

"But it's so weak . . . it won't survive." The bronze rider worried. Mara, just starting her fourth decade, was considered far too old to impress any dragon – that's why Lessa had ordered him flight ready, to remove Mara quickly if necessary.

"Her name is Prieth." Mara began to grow angry at the rider. "And she needs help." She started down the steps, only to be stopped by the bronze rider's strong arms around her waist.

"No, Mara. You can't." He drew her in close hoping to give her some comfort. When she struggled, he gripped her arm firmly and led her down the steps. "Let's go now."

The stands and grounds were almost empty, with the notable exception of the junior queen, her rider and her weyrmate. His bronze had dropped to the sands and stood vigil with the others. They watched the small egg, both dragons crooning lovingly and reassuringly.

Lessa saw what was happening – this wasn't the first time she had witnessed an unhealthy dragonet die before even emerging to see the light of day. She nudged F'lar and they both turned as G'raden forcefully led Mara off the steps and toward the exit. Lessa took the big woman's hand and pulled, to no effect. Mara had locked her position. "Mara, they don't all survive."

The big woman's face was a changing mask of concern, anger, and something very close to disgust. "But, she's . . ."

"Prieth's alive, Daddy. Help me!" A girl in a white robe led her father by the hand back onto the hot sands.

Two blue riders stopped the man from proceeding. Both smiled gently, but one told the father, "She needs to do this herself."

The girl slapped repeatedly at the two blue riders; neither budged. "Let him go!" she screamed. "Prieth needs help!"

"If she calls to you, you are the only one who can help her." The girl kicked first the rider who spoke to her and then the other. Both flinched, but neither let loose of her father.

She let out a shrill wail of anger and broke free from her father's tightening grip.

Mara had stopped fighting G'raden and stood in his arms, watching and listening with almost clinical detachment. She, G'raden, Lessa and F'lar moved a bit closer as the girl cradled the small egg, talking to the dragonet inside. They watched as she removed a sandal and began beating at the shell, with no effect.

The girl, in desperation, turned to the queen rider and her weyrmate, and pleaded. "I need a rock! Please," she begged, "I need a rock!"

The junior weyrwoman and her weyrmate exchanged meaningful glances and then nodded to each other. The bronze rider moved to the egg, drawing his belt knife, and knelt opposite the egg from the girl. "Move back."

"Don't hurt her." The girl pleaded pitifully and leaned back keeping one hand on the end of the egg.

The bronze rider tapped the egg with the hilt of his knife, testing the thickness of the shell. Then he slammed the butt of the knife harder, and then harder. He used both hands and slammed again, grunting as he made contact. The shell cracked. He hit again with less force and the shell broke open. He stood and moved away as the girl separated the two halves.

Before revealing the eggs contents, the girl turned humble eyes to the bronze rider. "Thank you, sir." She turned back to her task. The small limp body she pulled carefully from the shell was a sickly grayish green. The girl cradled the underdeveloped body in her arms and sat back onto the sands. "It's all right, Prieth. I have you now. It's all right."

The bronze rider looked to Weyrlingmaster L'ret, who had been called back with one of the dragon healers. When L'ret closed his eyes and shook his head, the bronze rider removed his wher-hide vest, folded it and, as L'ret lifted the girl by the arms, placed it for her to sit on.

L'ret stood back and surveyed the small crowd that had formed nearby, conveniently blocking view of this event from anyone outside the cavern. Besides the junior weyrwoman and her mate, the weyrleaders were present – no surprise – and Wingsecond F'nor holding his weyrmate, Brekke, as well as several bronze riders, including G'raden holding Mara – oh, how he wished he could spare her sight of this reality – and T'men standing with the Master Harper of Pern himself and Master Healer Oldive with that other healer – his name was Tarmin-ass or something. Well, he thought, if he couldn't spare his newest helper from seeing this, then she would learn from experiencing it; and maybe that Tarmin-whatever would learn a thing or two as well. "Mara. G'raden." He motioned for the two of them to join him.

G'raden and Mara each took a deep breath and nodded acknowledgement. They walked behind the line of observers toward the wall where L'ret stood. As they passed the father, Mara looked at him. Tears streamed down his face as he muttered continuously to himself and the blue riders holding him in place. "Oh, my poor Brendeen. I never should have spoiled her so." His arms had been pulled back and were now wrapped, fists loosely clenched, around each of the men holding him. The riders each had a hand firmly on his chest and another on his back. Mara wasn't sure if they were holding him back or holding him up. Neither rider looked at the man between them. As Mara looked at them, one lifted his chin in defiance and the other nodded at her. She nodded at each of them and then looked away, back to L'ret.

"If there's anything you can do for them . . ." L'ret's throat seized, but his jaw clenched as his chin lifted slightly.

Mara nodded and turned to the girl. She was about to kneel, when G'raden stopped her and removed his riding jacket, placing it in front of the girl. Mara nodded and knelt slowly. "What's her name?" she asked gently.

"Prieth." The girl was barely audible as she rocked forward and back, cradling what should be her life-mate.

"May I touch Prieth?" asked Mara.

Defensive, tear-filled eyes turned to study the big woman. "Are you a healer?"

"No."

"But, she can tell you what's wrong with Prieth." G'raden was on one knee behind the girl.

The girl nodded and moved her right hand to Prieth's flank. She seemed about to burst with a whole dam of new tears. After Mara wrapped a hand over the small back, the girl asked quietly, "What's wrong with her?"

Mara smiled gently. "I think you know that as well as I do. What do you feel?"

A new flood of tears streamed as the girl tried to control her voice. "She can't get enough air."

"Because her lungs aren't fully grown, yet."

"Is she . . ."

G'raden laid a hand on her back. "Don't be afraid, Brendeen." When the girl took a deep calming breath, G'raden continued. "Sometimes, this is the way of life."

"Then why did she call me?"

"She needs something from you, and you needed something from her."

"That's the biggest part of being a dragonrider" added G'raden.

"I can't give her air." Brendeen lowered her head and rocked more forcefully.

"But you are giving her love, and strength, and courage." Mara lifted the girls chin. "That's what Prieth needs."

"It's not enough."

"It is for Prieth." G'raden's gentle bass voice calmed the girl.

A small gray-green muzzle snaked up shakily as two pale eyes looked at the girl. A small hand cradled the muzzle as the girl said "I love you, Prieth, so very much." A small squeak came from the little muzzle as the pale eyes closed and the more-gray-than-green neck went limp in the girl's small hand. The girl hugged the small head to her slight chest and began to cry out loud.

G'raden slowly rubbed her back as the junior gold and her bronze mate raised their heads neck to neck and began their high mourning keen over the hugging junior weyrwoman and her weyrmate. As other dragons joined in to create an almost unbearably deafening sound within the cavern, the girl let out a wail of her own.

When the keening stopped, the exhausted girl looked at the big woman kneeling before her. Mara stroked her hair as she said, "She has known love, and feels no pain."

"Now it's time to let her go." G'raden's hand was now stationary on her back.

The girl panicked, and held the small dragonet possessively as she sought help from the junior weyrwoman.

The weyrwoman had already cut the front of her gown, using her mate's knife, and was ripping a large portion of the outer skirt. She walked to the girl and spread the beautiful fabric on the sands. "Lay her here. We'll take her _between_ where all dragons go." She spoke softly, but firmly.

G'raden helped the defeated girl to stand, and then helped Mara to her feet. They both moved back as the girl and the weyrwoman wrapped the tiny green dragon in the luxurious fabric.

Several people were already fitting riding straps to the junior queen and her bronze mate. The weyrwoman's mate had gone to their weyr and retrieved riding jackets for himself and for her. He held his mate's jacket for her to slip into and helped with the fastenings. F'lar, at Lessa's suggestion, had retrieved his weyrmate's jacket and helped Brendeen into it. When the girl was fastened, F'lar, with due reverence, carefully picked up the tiny bundle and stood at attention, waiting. Lessa moved to his side and placed an arm around his waist, and waited.

G'raden tightened his grip on Mara to get her attention. "I should go. Normond and I are both ready." Mara smiled and nodded at him before he kissed the side of her head and left the cavern.

The junior weyrwoman and her bronze rider weyrmate checked their riding straps and each mounted their dragon. The girl was handed up to the weyrwoman.

The girl's father panicked and tried to break free of the blue riders. "She can't . . . What if she . . ."

The riders firmly, but gently pushed him out of the entrance. "Watch." They all watched as the queen's rider made a show of fastening her riding straps and then running another strap from one side of her waist, around the girl and to the other side of her waist. She then tugged firmly on the safety strap, drawing the girl even tighter to her front. The father relaxed, but new tears began to flow. Someone tossed a fur to the queen's rider, which she tucked over the girls bare legs.

Golden queen and bronze mate moved forward. The queen rose to her haunches and allowed F'lar to place the wrapped bundle in her forepaws. All on the sands moved to clear a path for the dragon pair. Both rose into the air of the cavern and flew, queen first, through the entrance out into the bowl of Benden Weyr.

F'lar bent to his weyrmate and spoke into her ear. "Very beautifully done, my dear weyrwoman."

Lessa looked into his eyes. "This was for the girl, and her father, who we still need to deal with."

The weyrleaders each took a deep breath and turned to face Brendeen's father. Lessa reached out her hands to the man as she thanked the blue riders for their assistance. "My dear Lord Holder Kashman. We are all so sorry that Brendeen had to experience this unfortunate event."

The Lord Holder of Keroon Hold straightened his tunic and brushed his hands against his trousers, trying with all his might to regain proper holder composure. "How could you let this happen?" he hissed.

"When a candidate is called to an egg, we do not interfere" F'lar stated flatly.

Kashman was building momentum. "An egg so obviously deformed should have been destroyed before the candidates were placed on the sands."

"If that were the rule, we would not have Ruth" said Lessa "and without Ruth, the Red Planet's orbit would never have been altered."

"If a candidate is called to an egg, and chooses to act on that call, as your very brave daughter did," F'lar would have preferred to call her spoiled, "we do not interfere for fear of losing another dragon like Ruth."

Kashman was apparently as exhausted as his daughter, for he could not find an appropriate response. Lessa took this to her advantage and took him by the arm. "Come with us. We should all observe the full ritual." She led him out to the middle of the northern segment of the great bowl and they all raised their heads to watch as the golden queen circled higher and higher above the bowl, followed by two outward spreading lines of bronze and then brown, blue and green dragons. Lessa squeezed Kashman's arm as she saw tears flow from his eyes into his ears. F'lar bit his lips, but placed a hand on his other shoulder.

The entire population of Benden Weyr, as well as most of the guests, stood in the bowl with heads raised to the sky. Near the Hatching Grounds, Mara stood holding the arm of L'ret near two other men she didn't know; one old hunchback and one wearing harper blue. As the dragons gained altitude, she couldn't help commenting. "I don't understand. Why did she go to all this trouble?"

The tall man in harper blue answered in true harper fashion. "Funerals, my dear, are not for the benefit of the dead. They are for the benefit of those left behind. And a funeral of this magnitude demonstrates the value placed on the loss felt by the good Lord Holder Kashman and his daughter."

"Oh," Mara looked at the tall man "so it's political?"

The man blinked. "Perhaps. I prefer to think of it as a compassionate hand held out to a temporarily disadvantaged opponent."

The draconic procession high above Benden Weyr disappeared for several heartbeats and then reappeared flying in the opposite direction. The large arrow spiraled slowly down, not at a dizzying speed, but definitely at a mesmerizing, peaceful trance inducing rate. The formation closed on the bowl, the two lines behind the queen broke off, each spiraling away from the center point, leaving the queen to descend the final distance on her own. The gold dragon glided smoothly down and around the inside of the volcanic ridges. As she glided along the eastern wall on her final approach to the Hatching Grounds, Kashman gasped. He could see his daughter, sitting like a fragile doll, leaning against the gold's rider. She stared straight ahead, emotionally blank, pale as the robe she was wearing.

Lessa led the distraught Lord back toward the sands. "It might be best if she were to stay with us for a while, Lord Kashman. We can help her get past this terrible loss."

"But, she needs her family. She needs people who understand her."

Lessa smiled far more gently than she wished. "She needs people who understand the loss of a telepathic and empathic bond, however short-lived that bond might have been." She stopped him and looked him square in the eyes. "Right now, she feels as if parts of her heart, mind and soul have been ripped away. Do you know how to overcome that?" When he hung his shaking head, she took each of his hands in hers. "We do. The connection was short and she is obviously a very strong willed girl." He blubbered an almost apologetic chuckle. "She will be all right. She may never be quite the same, but she will be all right." When he nodded acquiescence, she once again took his arm and led him toward the Hatching Grounds.

When they reached the entrance, Kashman was surprised to see that all egg shells had been cleared away. He found his daughter standing like a statue between the junior queen and her weyrmate. Both were leaned down talking to her. Brendeen would occasionally nod, but showed no emotion whatsoever. He called to her with a shaky voice. "Brendeen."

The girl looked at him, registered who he was and walked mechanically his way. Kashman shook his head in disbelief, new tears escaping his already tear-encrusted eyes. This was not his precious little darling; she should be running to him, smiling and giggling.

Brendeen reached her father, wrapped her arms around him, and laid her head on his chest. "It's all right, Daddy." As he stroked her hair and back, and kissed the top of her head, she sighed. "Sometimes, this is the way of life. Don't cry, Daddy. Prieth doesn't hurt anymore."

Lessa laid her hand on the Lord Holders quivering shoulder.

Kashman nodded at the weyrwoman. He took his daughter by the shoulders and gently pushed her back so he could see her face. He nearly fell apart all anew when she didn't resist. "The weyrleaders think you should stay here for awhile, my darling."

A very short flash of fear shot through her eyes, but she nodded. "That would probably be best, Daddy." She backed out of his hands, turned and walked away.

Kashman's jaw dropped as his arms stretched to regain his hold. F'lar and Lessa each took one of his arms to keep him from falling. "We'll take good care of her, Kashman" said F'lar.

Kashman's arms dropped to his sides as he watched his daughter walk back to the junior weyrwoman. He took a deep breath as the woman put a hand on Brendeen's shoulder, bent to talk to her and then led her to the weyrlingmaster. L'ret spoke to the girl and when she nodded, he placed a large, but gentle hand on her shoulder and led her toward the bowl.

As L'ret passed the 'observers' to this tragedy, he stopped and turned to Mara. "Mara! When you are done . . . chattering, we could use your help at the barracks."

Mara stood straight and smiled broadly. "Yes, sir!"

Lord Holder Kashman, having regained a semblance of his decorum, stared at the big woman, and then squinted at Lessa. "Who is that woman?" he nearly demanded.

Lessa smiled her most innocent smile. "Mara? She's this weyr's most competent, most useful, and most versatile . . . drudge." She batted her eyes at the astonished man.

"Drudge?" Kashman couldn't believe that a mere drudge had been so close to his daughter.

Lessa was enjoying herself, now. She loved rubbing 'royal' noses in reality. She turned him toward the Lower Caverns and started leading him by the arm. "And, if she had been found fifteen turns ago, she would surely be a weyrwoman by now." When Kashman turned suspicious eyes to her, she beamed. "Just like me!"

When they came near the entrance to the Lower Caverns, Kashman stopped. He respectfully nodded at first F'lar and then Lessa and spoke quite formally. "Weyrleader F'lar, Weyrwoman Lessa, I sincerely hope you will understand if I do not remain for the . . . festivities." His voice cracked on the last word, but he raised his chin as if daring either to notice.

Lessa silently summoned the watch-dragon assigned to Keroon Hold as F'lar acknowledged understanding. As the brown dragon descended from the high ridges, Kashman turned back to the Hatching Grounds. "I've seen that woman before."

F'lar slapped him on the shoulder and turned him toward the landing dragon. "I doubt it. She's just a drudge after all."

As the watch-dragon launched into the air, F'lar turned and took Lessa by the shoulders. He leaned close to her face, frowning and spoke only loud enough for her to hear. "You lied to a Lord Holder."

Angry, resolute eyes met his. "I most certainly did not!"

"Competent? Versatile?"

Lessa's mouth twitched slightly. "That, my dear, is called anticipation."

"Weyrwoman?"

Now she glared. "Do you doubt my assessment, Weyrleader?"

F'lar searched her face for some sign of humor; none existed. He looked at the large woman on the sands and back to Lessa. "Of course not, my dear Weyrwoman. But . . ."

Lessa put her hands on his arms and lifted them from her shoulders, turning him toward the Hatching Grounds. "We have guests to attend to, my dear Weyrleader."

TO BE CONTINUED

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This one was almost as hard as the green mating flight. Please let me know what you think! All reviews are welcome and appreciated.


	12. Hello, Master Oldive

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey: Thank you for allowing me to play with your property!

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**Same Day**

Three men and two women stood just outside the entrance to the Hatching Grounds. Newly hatched, but seriously underdeveloped green Prieth had been interred 'between' by an astoundingly beautiful procession of dragons of all colors. Her would-be-rider, Brendeen, had been lead from the grounds by the weyrlingmaster and Brendeen's father, Lord Holder Kashman of Keroon, had been escorted away from the grounds by Lessa and F'lar. The five people were transfixed by the sight of over two hundred dragons returning from the hastily arranged, but magnificently executed funeral. Rukbat's warm light had just touched the western floor of the bowl. The dragons swooped into the bowl a dozen or so at a time, swirled in an apparently chaotic mess to achieve proper altitudes, hides and wings gleaming in the sunlight, and disappeared one by one into small black holes in the sides of the towering ridges.

The morning's hatchlings with their new life-mates were spread out along the eastern half of the northern section of the bowl, youngsters feeding and oiling their new partners, some talking non-stop and some simply adoring each other, all totally oblivious to the mass of fully grown dragons moving above and around them. Experienced riders circulated among the new pairs, offering congratulations and advice. The scene was one of exalted, slightly frightening joy.

One brown dragon, with rider, landed near the Lower Caverns where the Hatching festivities were just beginning. Lord Kashman was loaded, and the brown launched into the air as three more dragons, two bronze and a brown, landed further out.

"That was beautiful." The wiry slack-jawed man had nearly lost his balance and was being supported by an attractive young woman who held his arm and smiled admiringly at the mass of multi-colored dragons, both on the ground and in the air.

The tall man in harper blue held the arm of the shorter man with an oddly tilted head, supporting them both. The tall large woman stood with legs spread for balance and giggled. "What's so amusing?" asked the tall man.

"The dragons had fun. They like following a queen."

"Fun?" The wiry man was shocked. "Don't they realize this was a funeral?" He glared at the big woman.

"No, Master Tarminas, they don't." Mara continued smiling at the now disgusted man. "Their funeral ended with the last note of their mourning cry. The human-arranged funeral was new and exciting . . . and fun."

The tall man moved directly into the line of vision between Mara and Tarminas. "I don't believe we've met, young Lady." He held out his hand. "My name is Sebell."

The tall woman shook the offered hand firmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sebell. My name is Mara."

"And this," Sebell placed a hand on the shorter man's arm "is Oldive, a very dear friend of mine."

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Oldive." They shook hands. "Are you a healer like Tarminas and Loralin?"

"I am indeed! And my dear friend, Sebell, is a harper."

"He's not just a healer . . ." Tarminas' affronted statement was cut off by a very tight squeeze from Loralin.

"I'm a very good healer!" declared Oldive, grinning and maintaining his hold of her hand.

Four of the five people laughed as Lessa and F'lar approached the group, followed closely by bronze riders T'men and G'raden and the brown rider who landed with them. Lessa smiled warmly as she clasped Sebell's hand in both of hers. "Mara, I see you've met the Master Harper and Master Healer of Pern."

Mara's jaw dropped as she squinted at the man still holding her hand. "This is a true honor, Very Good Healer Oldive!"

"His title . . . ouch . . . " Tarminas was cut off again by the lovely, innocently smiling Loralin.

"May I hold your arm, dear. My balance . . ." Oldive turned pleading eyes up at the big woman.

"Of course, Master Healer Oldive." A humorous glint in those pleading eyes, as well as a few chuckles and one barely contained guffaw, told Mara that this man was probably not as helpless as he pretended, but a total lack of any malice convinced her to allow him this small pleasure, even as it confused her. As he wrapped his left hand around her right arm, he managed to turn the both of them toward Sebell. Mara reached as far as she could with her freed hand. "It is also a true honor to meet you, Master Harper Sebell."

Sebell took her hand in both of his and graced her with his most charming smile. "And an honor to meet you, Lady Mara. We've both," he grimaced slightly at the healer on her arm "heard a great deal about you."

Mara felt a rising heat in her face from the harper's engaging smile and the use of such an undeserved title. She was not at all accustomed to this sort of attention, especially from so many very important people.

"Yup, you are quite a phenomenon" said the brown rider with a truly sarcastic drawl.

F'lar grunted as Mara turned a puzzled scowl to the grinning brown rider. "And this is Wingsecond F'nor, rider of brown Canth."

Mara spread the fingers of her right hand to show it was otherwise engaged, and reached out her left hand. "An honor, I'm sure, Wingsecond F'nor."

F'nor took her offered hand and squeezed firmly as he searched her eyes. Something in the set of his chin and those glaring eyes struck Mara as very familiar – different colored eyes, but the intensity reminded her of . . . "Brothers?"

F'lar let out a loud guffaw. "That, too."

Almost everyone laughed as F'nor feigned insult. Tarminas still steamed over what he perceived as an insult to his master.

"Well," said Lessa "you two are probably famished!" She placed herself between Oldive and Sebell, held each of their arms, and led them to the hatching feast.

Oldive beamed with pleasure. "A lovely Lady on each arm. This is a day for the Records!"

The bronze riders broke off from the group and found seating with friends, and the weyr healers separated to sit elsewhere as the weyrleaders, the Masters, F'nor and Mara moved to the head table. Mara helped the not-so-helpless Master Healer to his seat and turned to Lessa. "I should help in the kitchen."

"Not today, Mara. You have meetings with each of these two gentlemen," Lessa smiled at the big woman's shock, "so you had best eat while you can." She turned the woman and gently pushed her away from the head table. "You join your friends, and enjoy the parade that's about to begin."

Mara stood at the edge of the raised platform and spotted G'raden. She moved through the tightly packed tables, easily double the number usually set up, and approached G'raden from behind. Hands on his shoulders, she leaned close to his ear. "Where's my meatroll?"

The surprised bronze rider turned wide eyes to her. "I ate it."

"Ahh, G'raden!" she shook his shoulders as she mock scolded him and then nearly whined. "I'm famished."

The big man smiled broadly and mock scolded her right back. "Then sit, and eat!"

She sat, between G'raden and T'men this time, was served a bowl of boiled grains and a tall glass of spring water, and ate with relish as the men recounted the impressions they had witnessed this day, and recalled their own impressions, each with nearly as much joy as the day they had met their respective life-mates. Mara was amazed at the free flow of shameless, joyful tears from so many big, strong men, and equally amazed at the lack of any derisive remarks about those tears from anyone at or near the table. She thought for a moment how a tear on the docks of Keroon could get a man killed, and sternly pushed the thought away – this was most definitely not Keroon.

T'men graciously offered her the several definitions of 'phenomenon', without his usual word games this time, and when she puzzled over which definition F'nor had intended, he suggested that she presume the best until he proved otherwise. As if summoned by the discussion, Wingsecond F'nor joined the group, straddling the back of a chair across the table from Mara, G'raden and T'men.

"So," he seemed to have trouble recalling her name, "Mara. What do you think of Benden Weyr?"

"I like it." She smiled guardedly at the seemingly condescending man.

"You . . . like it?"

"The people are . . . mostly pleasant." She fought a giggle when he caught her addition of 'mostly'. "And the dragons are wonderful." She was about to go on.

"So, you think you'll fit in?" He seemed to study her for defects.

Mara studied him just as tenaciously. He was testing her, but what was he looking for? She decided to be cautious and respectful, at least until she knew the man better. "I certainly hope so, Wingsecond F'nor. I most definitely prefer Benden Weyr to the docks of Keroon."

F'nor leaned back, holding the back of the chair and seemed to drift into another world. "Ah, Keroon. Sunny beaches, grassy meadows, beautiful runner beasts."

"Oppressive heat, bugs of all sizes." Mara glanced quickly at T'men to be sure she had used 'oppressive' correctly.

F'nor leaned forward again, seemingly annoyed at her interruption of his reverie. "You made a pretty close guess on the colors of the dragons."

"How close?"

His face scrunched slightly with reluctance to verify what she already knew. "Very close. How'd you do that?"

Mara shrugged. "First-timers luck."

When he nodded suspiciously, Mara decided to test him just a little. "If you are Wingsecond, why haven't I seen you before? I've been here for over a sevenday now."

He squinted, apparently reevaluating a prior assessment. "Weyr business sometimes takes me to other regions of Pern."

"Your tan suggests that your weyr business must have been quite pleasant."

His back straightened as his head seemed to raise a full handspan. His head cocked to one side briefly as he continued to eye her suspiciously. "Business is what you make of it," he said flatly.

"As is all of life," Mara quipped, surprised at the quickness of her own response.

He studied her for another heartbeat and then let loose a bellicose "HA!" as he leaned forward and smacked both hands, palms down, on the table. "You're right!" He finally smiled when she only pulled her chin in, not really flinching, and offered her a proper handshake. "Welcome to Benden Weyr, Mara."

Mara was slow to take his hand, grinning ear-to-ear as she puzzled over this man. She finally returned his uncomfortably firm handshake with equal firmness. "Thank you, Wingsecond F'nor. I hope to prove myself worthy very soon."

He slapped his other hand to the back of hers, watching for a flinch that didn't happen. "Good. Very good. We can always use extra help." He let loose of her hand and rose quickly. "Riders." He nodded to each of the bronze riders sitting near the woman, and left as suddenly as he had appeared.

Mara watched his broad back as it soon disappeared behind other people moving among the tables. "Whoa!" was all she could manage to say.

Four bronze riders laughed. T'men placed a hand on her shoulder. "Very impressive, Mara. You really gave him a run for his marks!"

G'raden patted and rubbed her back as G'regg, across the table, tried to hold her unmoved hand. She scowled fiercely as she pulled her hand away and then laughed at his pout. B'nor just laughed at all of it.

The massive cavern was so crowded that Mara was only able to witness the introduction of one small blue dragon. He was ceremoniously introduced to the weyrleaders at the head table before being surrounded by cautiously proud family members, all considerately expressing only shared joy at the new pairing. When the blue dragonet squawked at the fuss, the proud, but solicitous life-mate picked him up. Mara's last sight of the pair included a sinuous tale wrapping around the boy's waist and one leg as the long, skinny neck draped over one shoulder and around the boy's neck, so that two pairs of eyes, one set filled with tears and the other swirling blue and green with decreasing streaks of orange faced the doting family.

Mara was soon spirited away by Journeywoman Loralin. The two women, Master Healers Oldive and Tarminas, and, at Mara's request, G'raden, left the noisy hall and walked past the smaller living cavern into one of the tunnels beyond. Loralin found a bright glow basket, which Oldive took from her as he led the way. He excitedly told of how several of the original rooms carved into this weyr by the original occupants had been transformed into Healer rooms. Mara was amused at the manner in which the old healer, in his excitement, lithely navigated the tunnel and steps without any assistance.

When Master Oldive placed a hand on a plate near a metal door, all gasped as the door slid into the wall and lights began illuminating the rooms beyond. They followed Oldive through a comfortable sitting room and into a much more industrial looking room, with a thinly padded table at the center. Around the perimeter of the room were deep cabinets topped with smooth metal surfaces and even more, shallower cabinets above the work spaces. Oldive walked around the room, opening doors and drawers, marveling at all the equipment and supplies. Tarminas beamed with pride as he explained how types of equipment had been separated to be easily accessible based on the type of procedure that needed to be performed. Loralin observed Tarminas' elation and Master Healer Oldive's appreciation of all the effort undertaken by all the healers at Benden Weyr.

Mara tried to figure out where all the light was coming from as G'raden tried to explain in fairly simplistic terms the concepts of solar energy and electricity in general.

Tarminas pointed out another metal door at the other end of the room. This, when fully operational, would be a lift, large enough and strong enough for several people and a stretcher to be carried from the first level of the tunnels up to this 'surgery'.

The admiration was halted when Oldive declared loudly. "Well, enough dawdling over this magnificence." The last word was directed at the beaming weyr healers. "We have other issues to discuss." He led the way back to the sitting room and chose a small round table with six chairs placed around the edge. "Let's sit here." He pointed out where each person should sit, placing himself between Mara and Tarminas, G'raden next to Mara and Loralin next to Tarminas. "Good!" he declared, and began his 'interview' with Benden Weyr's newest member.

His very first question had to do with Mara's aversion to fellis. It was quickly determined that she was one of those rare people who demonstrated an atypical response to the commonly used narcotic – rather than placing her into a comatose state, fellis merely paralyzed her body, leaving her mind active, frightened and uncontrollable. Tarminas went pale as she described her experiences and was sincerely apologetic about not asking her more questions.

Through seemingly unrelated questions, Oldive determined to his and Tarminas' satisfaction that Mara was absolutely not experiencing anything remotely close to depression. She had put history in its place and was focusing on the future. When asked to tell the kindly Master Healer of Pern what had occurred on Keroon's Gather day, she was able to give nearly emotionless details of all that she had been subjected to, at least all that she had been conscious through. Yes, thinking about it made her sad, and yes, she was still angry, but only at the men who had hurt her, not at mankind in general. When asked, not so delicately, by Tarminas how she dealt so easily with such a traumatic event, she stated simply and matter-of-factly that it was now history and history can't be changed and this history was now a part of who she was. And then she wondered out loud if she shouldn't actually be grateful to 'those men' for causing her to wind up here, 'living with dragons and dragon people'.

Master Oldive questioned her somewhat on her telepathic abilities, stopping when she demonstrated great consternation at discussing telepathy with humans. Journeywoman Loralin opened the subject of her empathic abilities, and Oldive delved even deeper, but thoughtfully not into the area of empathy with humans. Oldive wondered out loud if she might be carrying Ruathan blood in her veins – Ruathans seemed to have the highest inclination toward telepathy and empathy. When Mara was unable to say where her parents were from, he suggested, and then had to explain, drawing a blood sample for study at Landing. Mara agreed and Oldive asked her, as if he were too old to remember himself, to remind him at the conclusion of their meeting.

When asked how she felt physically, Mara reluctantly admitted to Oldive that she still felt soreness in her muscles and belly, some quite uncomfortable tightness in parts of her ribcage, a slight headache from where she had been knocked between the first time and some occasional stabbing pains in one shoulder and one hip when she moved in the wrong way. Oldive examined her head and ribs with gentle probing fingers as he asked questions about the pains she was experiencing and was pleased that she knew the difference between necessary recuperative discomfort and the pains warning of potential or existing damage.

He then suggested, explained and was granted permission to perform, a bit of chiropractic work on her shoulder and hip. He moved her arm to test its range of motion and to determine exactly where her problem might lie, and then G'raden was asked to hold her firmly in her chair as the not-so-disabled Master Healer placed a foot on the side of her ribcage and jerked her shoulder back into proper alignment.

G'raden paled significantly as Mara tried to hold back a surprised grunt. His color didn't improve until her pain had nearly dissipated and she began smiling at her increased mobility.

Oldive warned her not to overwork the joint until all the discomfort had passed as he led her back into the 'surgery' and had her lie on the table, heels just over the edge. G'raden began to pale in anticipation, as Oldive checked the condition of her hip. Oldive explained that this would be far less uncomfortable than the shoulder had been.

For the sake of distraction, as he explained to Tarminas, and so that G'raden would experience the less traumatic adjustment of her hip, Oldive recommended the big man hold her hips in place with hands on her pelvic bones. Oldive winked at a confused Tarminas as bronze rider and adoring damsel blushed at each other. Neither of the reddened pair seemed to notice much discomfort as Oldive pulled and twisted her leg back into its proper position.

Oldive playfully elbowed G'raden out of the way with "That's enough of that, young man" and helped Mara to sit up. Her tall body and his hunched framed quickly convinced him that she should sit in a chair while he stood and began to explain the next procedure he would like to perform – an internal examination.

He explained the reasons for the procedure and possibly necessary additional procedures that could only be determined with a close examination. When Mara agreed, he began to explain the instruments that he would be using. When Tarminas pulled some of the instruments from a drawer and brought them to Oldive, G'raden began to pale again.

Loralin moved to his side. When Tarminas, oblivious to the big man's condition, placed some odd looking devices in pre-positioned holders at the end of the table, G'raden nearly lost his legs. All three healers and Mara quickly led him back to the sitting room, Oldive declaring that everyone had their strengths, and no shame should be felt at such minor weaknesses. The wobbly rider was led to the center of a heavily padded chair that was at least as wide as a man was tall. Loralin expertly guided him into a sitting position and spoke reassuringly as the Master Healers and Mara went back into the surgery. She tried to comfort him by telling him that she had undergone the same procedure not long ago and that is was really not that bad. His eyes went wide and then closed as he inadvertently looked at her belly. She guided his rapid descent to the long padded chair and made certain he was comfortable and safe before leaving, hoping to be able to learn something new with Mara's examination.

Mara was already wrapped in a sheet and sitting on the table as Loralin entered. In response to Oldive's unspoken question, Loralin smiled. "He's . . . resting." She then went to Mara's side and helped her to lie back, placing a small pillow in just the right position under her neck. As Oldive inserted his instruments, explaining each step beforehand, Loralin held Mara's hand and watched her surprised, but curious reactions.

As the men began talking in some alien language about contusions and foreign materials and quite a few more, even larger terms unfamiliar to Mara, she turned her attention to Loralin. On noticing the Journeywoman's longing to participate, Mara suggested she join the healers.

After what seemed an eternity – she had already counted the tiles on the ceiling three times, just to be sure, and the doors in the cabinets, and the glass doors as opposed to the metal doors another three times to verify her accuracy, and come up with a multiplication statement to describe the tiles in the ceiling – Mara suddenly had a serious bout of giggles.

Oldive pulled the sheet down to look at her. "Are you all right, dear?"

"I'm fine, Master Healer . . ." the giggles reasserted their attack.

Oldive and Loralin smiled at each other. Tarminas seemed baffled. "What is so funny?" asked the weyr healer.

"I was just imagining being at the far end of a dragon's weyr," she fought to control another attack "and three giants outside the entrance trying to find me."

Oldive and Loralin both laughed appreciatively. Oldive stopped first. "Well, my fellow giants, I think we have invaded the privacy of this woman's weyr far longer than is necessary." He winked at Mara, stood and very carefully removed his instruments before lowering the sheet further and helping to remove her now numb legs from the devices at the end of the table.

Tarminas took the instruments to a sink along the wall as Loralin and Oldive, much stronger than he looked, helped Mara to stand, Loralin pulling the sheet tighter around the big woman's waist. Oldive winked again, with no maliciousness or even innuendo Mara noticed, and patted her arm before turning to help Tarminas. "You get dressed, young lady, and then we'll discuss what we did find in your weyr."

When the door between the surgery and the sitting room opened, G'raden was sitting broodingly, hands clasped tightly on his lap. Mara bounced to sit next to him and took his hands in hers. "Master Healer Oldive says I can do anything I want to . . . as long as it doesn't hurt."

G'raden's face livened up a bit. "Anything? But . . . " He looked at her belly and then back to her laughing eyes.

"Anything!" Her face sank as she added "But, he's not sure if I can ever have children." She studied his face for any signals this news might cause.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mara. Children are so wonderful."

"Do you have children?" she asked.

G'raden lit up as he answered. "I do! A boy and a girl! Manora keeps teasing, I hope, that she will throw us all out if they don't behave better."

"Oh!" Mara laughed at him and then became more serious. "Do you want more?"

"I don't need more children." He searched her eyes for acceptance of his next statement. "I want you, just the way you are."

An unnaturally loud throat clearing from across the room kept them from hugging. G'raden and Mara sheepishly joined the healers at the table, hand in hand.

Master Healer Oldive wasn't the least bothered by their display of affection, but Tarminas seemed rather disturbed. Oldive broke the spell. "Bronze rider G'raden, you have trouble speaking sometimes."

"Yes, Master Healer."

"Do you have any idea why?"

G'raden took a deep breath and looked all around the room. "I took a blow to the head . . . when I was young. I talked fine before that."

"Were you able to feel what other people felt before that?"

G'raden nodded slowly. He seemed about to say something, but didn't.

"Hmm." Oldive studied him for a heartbeat and then looked at the far corner of the room. "I remember reading something about head injuries. Would you consider coming to Healer Hall at Landing in a couple of sevendays? I should be able to find those references before then."

"I can do that." G'raden nodded more enthusiastically.

"Good. I can't make any promises, but I would really like to talk more about your condition after I do some research, all right?" When G'raden nodded, he went on. "Well, I think we're about finished. Do either of you have any questions?"

Mara and G'raden both shook their heads. Loralin broke in for the first time. "If I may, Master Healer?" She held up a bound volume.

"Oh, of course, my dear. Go ahead."

Loralin turned to the bronze rider. "I'm just curious, G'raden. If I show you a drawing of what the insides of a woman should look like, could you tell us what you felt wasn't right in Mara's belly?"

"I don't know."

Loralin started to lay open the book, but hesitated. "If these drawings bother you, G'raden, just say so. Not everyone can bear to look at these."

The big man grinned sheepishly. "Won't know till I look, will we?"

Loralin laid open the book to a not very detailed drawing of the organs in a woman's body. G'raden pulled the book closer as he and Mara both studied the page. Mara tried to read one of the words. "Utter-us?"

"Uterus" Loralin gave her the correct pronunciation.

"Is that what you were examining?"

Loralin nodded, and seeing that G'raden seemed to be handling the drawing just fine suggested he turn the page for a closer look at that particular organ.

He did so and after a short study, issued an understanding "Ahhh." He turned to Mara and indicated her belly. "May I?"

Mara nodded and sat up straight, allowing him to place his hand firmly against her, fighting a flush of excitement.

G'raden closed his eyes for several heartbeats, and then let out a depressed "Ahhh."

"What?" asked Mara.

G'raden studied the drawing and pointed. "I think these . . . Fallopian tubes?" He looked at Loralin for confirmation. "These aren't right. Are they supposed to be attached?" When Loralin nodded, he continued in a low sad voice. "They're not attached. They point in the wrong direction." He turned again to Mara. "I'm sorry, Mara."

Mara took a deep breath and then shrugged. "It's the way it is. I'm all right with it."

G'raden's sadness faded. "Me, too." And they began smiling and blushing at each other again. Another loud throat clearing caused them to laugh as they turned back to the Master Healer of Pern.

"Well," said Oldive, again with no signs of discomfort, "if you are correct, G'raden, and we have no reason to doubt that you're not, then, Mara, you will not be able to have any children. You see, the Fallopian tubes are supposed to deliver eggs to the uterus. If the tubes are not connected, the eggs can never be fertilized. I'm very sorry, dear." He laid a hand out on the table, palm up, offering consolation to his patient.

Mara took his hand, turned it, and patted the back. "It's all right, Master Oldive. It's a good thing to know how it is now. Better than later." She smiled reassurance to the kind man.

He smiled at the thought of this sweet Lady consoling her healer as he looked at a device on his left wrist. "Oh, my, I hope they haven't launched a search party!" He rose and turned to the door, but stopped when Mara 'reminded' him of the blood he wanted to draw. As Loralin quickly returned to the surgery for the proper equipment, he sat back down. "Sebell will not be happy that I took so much of your time, my dear. Never make a harper angry! They have truly devious methods of retaliation."

As Loralin returned and pulled up a chair at Mara's side, Oldive continued his 'fretting'. "Oh, my, what will he do this time? He put fellis in my wine once at a party I was particularly interested in learning a great deal from. He once managed to glue my shoes to the floor, even with my feet inside."

The big man and matching woman laughed so hard at the visuals he left to their imagination, that only Mara noticed the needlethorn piercing her skin inside her elbow. Her blood filled the glass vial quickly and Loralin had the needle out and the hole patched before G'raden even suspected. Loralin labeled the vial and handed it to Oldive, who then quickly finished his 'horror stories'. "Well, the more we dally, the worse my punishment, so you three run along now while Tarminas and I have a little discussion. Go on, now. Find that Harper, but don't tell him where you left me, all right?"

Loralin led the way through the very dark tunnel – the glow basket had been left for the Master Healer's safe passage – as G'raden and Mara followed, laughing sporadically.

* * *

Well, this chapter was supposed to end Hatching day, but details, details, details – there is only so much that can be glossed over without hiding vital parts of the picture.

Please let me know if I'm using too much detail. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading this little, but growing story.


	13. Hello, Master Sebell

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey: Thank you for allowing me to play with your property!

Louise: Thank you for your very, very kind review. You were the perfectly timed antidote to a horrible nightmare less than 12 hours earlier.

* * *

**Later the Same Day**

G'raden and Mara followed Journeywoman Healer Loralin down the long, very dark tunnel from rooms that had been carved out of the inside of the mountain centuries earlier by the original inhabitants of Benden Weyr. They held hands as they walked some distance behind the healer, keeping their free hands on the outside walls.

"So . . . you can do anything you want now?" G'raden's smile was hidden by the darkness.

"Anything!" Mara's excited smile could be heard in her voice.

"You . . . can . . . go between on a dragon?"

"Yup!" Mara's excitement was easily transmitted through their hands.

"Good. You'll like seeing all the different places on Pern." G'raden pretended to be deep in thought as he fought to keep from laughing. "You can . . . go swimming?"

"Yup!"

"Lots of nice lakes and streams near here. Can . . . you . . . go dancing?"

"I can try! Never done any dancing before."

"Dancing is required at Benden Weyr. I'll teach you. Can you . . . climb a tree?"

Loralin smiled at the big bronze rider's teasing as she hurried toward the exit, allowing them to lag even further behind. As she approached the lower caverns, the continued cheerful sounds of the Hatching celebration reached her. The celebration, complete with parades of little dragons and their new life-mates, would continue most of the day. Food and drinks would be available all day long, with no regularly scheduled meals. Loralin made a mental note to avoid the lower caverns this day, preferring to maintain her still slender figure over the temptation of overindulging in the many delicacies that would be in abundance. As she entered the cavern, she found Weyrwoman Lessa and waved.

Weyrleader F'lar, sitting at the head of the table in the Council chamber, ended his meeting with Masterharper Sebell and Wingleader T'men with a cautious smile. "Well, Mnementh informs me that our subject is about to return to the Hatching festivities." He placed both hands near the edge of the table and pushed himself up and his chair back as he watched the face of the Masterharper. "You are aware, I'm sure, that my weyrwoman will not be pleased. She had higher expectations of Cosira and G'dened."

"As did we all, Weyrleader F'lar." Sebell, with his gold fire lizard Kimi lounging on his shoulder, stood carefully to avoid disturbing her.

T'men stood at the same time, collecting the empty Klah pot and mugs. He followed F'lar and Sebell out onto Ramoth's ledge and down the steps into the bowl of the weyr. He smiled at the sight of Kimi stirring on the Masterharper's shoulder. She stretched her wings, one out to the side and one behind Sebell's head, before launching into the air to visit with others of her kind.

F'lar, Sebell and T'men entered the dining hall at the same time G'raden and Mara entered from the smaller inner cavern. F'lar, all jovial smiles now, continued inside to join his seemingly tireless weyrmate as T'men introduced G'raden to Masterharper Sebell. G'raden stuttered and stammered horribly, blushing deeply with embarrassment even as he tried to maintain eye contact. T'men suggested that the bronze rider probably had other duties to perform this day and G'raden jumped at the opportunity to leave their company. Mara watched him disappear into the slowly dwindling crowd in the main cavern and wondered if she should try to defend him to the Masterharper.

"Well." said T'men "I didn't have much time to eat this morning. Would you mind, Masterharper?" He motioned into the dining hall with a hand full of empty klah mugs.

"Oh, let me take those!" Mara was horrified at the sight of a wingleader carrying dirty mugs.

T'men held the mugs tight. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

"Not anymore." She grinned as she took all the mugs and the empty klah pot from him.

"Didn't you mention a nice cozy, cool place to sit near the lake?" Sebell gave T'men a hopeful glance. The sandy bowl of Benden Weyr was beginning to heat up in the summer sun.

"Yes, I did! Mara, why don't you ask the kitchen staff for a picnic tray, with extra klah." T'men grinned at Sebell. "We'll still have an hour or so of morning sun, but it's the coolest part of the bowl and surely won't be in use on this day."

The harper and the wingleader stood out of the way near the entrance, listening to and commenting on the weyr harper's choices for background music. Sebell was most gracious, with appropriate greetings, congratulations, and small talk, as exiting visitors recognized him. He was forced several times to most regrettably refuse to join several different groups of people, stating each time that his presence would soon be required at a rather vital meeting.

Mara returned with a heavily laden tray full of a large variety of snacks, complete with two pots of klah, a pot of cool spring water, and three clean mugs. T'men quickly took the klah pots, and Sebell took the pot of water to the great consternation of Mara.

They walked out of the main cavern and south along the western wall of the great bowl. The sun, nearly straight overhead, was merciless, reflecting both off the sand of the bowl and the wall of the double crater.

Sebell began the conversation. "Bronze Rider G'raden seems quite an interesting man." He smiled at Mara giving no hint of his first impression of her very dear friend.

"Yes, sir!" She was almost too emphatic. "And he's a lot smarter than most people know!"

"Really?" Sebell's question gave no indication of disbelief, merely curiosity.

"Yes, sir! He knows most of those big words in the . . . historical references to the Charter of Pern! And those he doesn't know, he can find real fast in the dictionary T'men loaned us!"

"Really!"

"Yes, sir! And he's real good at explaining things."

"He seems to have a bit of a problem speaking." The Masterharper merely stated an obvious fact.

"Yes, sir." Mara hesitated slightly before explaining. "He knows all the words, but he says they get messed up or lost between here" she pointed to her temple and then her mouth "and here."

"Hmmm." Sebell nodded understanding and then looked to T'men.

T'men, smiling, confirmed what Mara had already stated. "He is quite intelligent, and his stuttering lessens considerably when he's more relaxed. As a matter of fact, he and I have been discussing the 'Annotated Charter' that your hall has made so accessible. He seems quite fascinated with the history of corporations."

"Corporations?" Sebell seemed surprised as he looked to Mara for confirmation. "Why?"

"Corporations and corporate influence are mentioned a lot in the historical references, but there isn't really any explanation of what they are." Mara grimaced at possibly insulting Harper Hall by mentioning a deficiency. When Sebell only nodded, she continued. "G'raden thinks they sound a lot like our crafthalls, or weyrs, or maybe even some holds, but corporations seem a whole lot more dangerous. He wants to find a way to stop them from hurting the people of Pern."

"And how does he propose to do that?" Sebell seemed truly curious.

One side of Mara's mouth twitched as her eyebrows rose. "First, he needs to figure out what they are."

T'men spoke up. "I believe one of the books Harper Hall is sending us covers Earth corporations. Either way, I've promised to show our friend how to conduct research at the AIVAS facility."

"I'd be most interested in seeing a report of his findings." Sebell was quite serious. "You may wish to introduce him to Lord Lytol. He's been reading a great deal about Earth's history."

"And he enjoys talking about everything he's read. That is an excellent idea!" T'men was genuinely pleased at the thought of these two men meeting.

"Lytol is even putting together a syllabus for an Earth history course at Landing" Sebell added.

"I hope he'll include a list of references for self-directed study." T'men looked hopeful.

Sebell's eyes gleamed. "I think everyone will be including self-directed study options from now on."

T'men nodded appreciation as Mara tried to figure out what they were talking about. She would have to ask T'men later.

As they approached the lake, T'men pointed with a klah pot. "There. Under the trees near the fence." The edge of the lake came very close to the wall of the crater, but then curved away again, leaving a long, wide, secluded grassy stretch all the way down into the feeding grounds. A few tall, wide branching trees provided shade in several areas.

"That looks lovely!" Sebell walked faster, passing Mara and T'men. "Well worth the long walk!" He chose a spot not too near the feeding ground fence, where a group of wherries was also enjoying the shade. He sat down cross-legged with his back to the wall and waited for T'men and Mara to sit. T'men sat with his back against the wall as well, as Mara placed the tray between them and sat facing the two of them. "So, Mara," Sebell began "what fascinates you?"

As she poured klah for the two men, she thought hard for an answer. She handed a mug to the Masterharper and another to T'men and looked apologetic. "Everything!"

Sebell and T'men laughed good-naturedly at her. Suddenly, a flurry of gold wings appeared barely two handspans in front of Mara. She leaned back and smiled. "Who are you?" she asked the chirping fire lizard.

"Kimi, dear, show some manners, please." The glittering flurry of gold shot straight up and then spiraled down to perch on Sebell's shoulder. Mara laughed when the little queen rubbed her head along the Masterharper's cheek.

"Oh, she's beautiful! She looks just like a queen dragon!" Kimi looked at her, eyes swirling blue and green and seemed to be trying to tell her something. Mara caught pictures flying through her mind that weren't of her making; pictures of masses of little fire lizards of all colors flying all around her, swirling above and around various buildings she didn't recognize, and then small tongues of flame issuing from the little creatures muzzles to char long strands of slimy grey Threads. "You flame Thread too?" The pictures changed; now she was flying inside a small building, high above a small clutch of very small dragon eggs, people in long white over-tunics standing to one side, others in clothing Mara didn't recognize standing nearby, and then the eggs began hatching very small dragonettes as joy consumed her as a fire lizard and those all around her, human and lizard alike. "You flamed Thread before dragons hatched!"

T'men and Sebell's laughter broke into her intriguing experience. "Oh, I'm sorry, Masterharper Sebell!"

"Sorry? Why?"

"It's rude to speak to a dragon without her rider's permission." Mara was truly appalled at her behavior.

"Well, first, Kimi is not a dragon, and second, I wouldn't dream of riding her." His laughing eyes and wide grin helped Mara to relax. "Fire lizards, and Kimi in particular, tend to speak whenever and to whomever they choose. Surely, it would be considered equally rude to merely ignore her, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose it would" Mara responded sheepishly.

"Now, Kimi." He placed a finger on the side of her head and turned her to face him. "Thank you so much for gracing Mara with that lovely explanation, but we need to talk now." He stoked her head and neck with his finger. "All right?"

Kimi chirped at him, poked her muzzle against the tip of his nose and jumped off his shoulder, landing just shy of the picnic tray. She studied each small plate of goodies, poked her muzzle toward one containing small cubes of breaded meat, and then looked longingly at the Masterharper.

Sebell squinted at Kimi. "You gluttonous little darling. Perhaps Mara will give you just a few pieces."

Mara cheerfully took a chunk between a finger and thumb and held it out for Kimi. The little gold took it politely, chewed dutifully, swallowed and then let out a little cough. Mara took a piece for herself and made a face. "The bread's a little spicy, isn't it?" When Kimi chirruped, Mara took another piece, scraped off the breading and gave that to her new little friend. Kimi again chewed the chunk and swallowed, before emitting a series of very pleased and grateful chirps.

Masterharper Sebell quizzed both Mara, who continued feeding Kimi, and T'men for a good portion of the afternoon. He learned about Mara's lack of a useful education since the death of her mother – her father taught her only that she should keep quiet and do as she was told. T'men informed him that her education at Benden Weyr had covered many subjects, mostly reading and writing, etiquette and psychology, with mere dabblings in mathematics, sociology, biology, various other sciences, history, geography, and geology.

Mara was amazed at the 'big words' T'men used to describe what they had talked about so far, and quite pleased to learn even more big words for future use.

Sebell pretended insult when Kimi, now full of meat chunks, curled up on Mara's warm thigh to nap, crooning softly as Mara stroked her soft, warm hide from head to tail tip.

Mara wondered if all harpers used word games as the Masterharper, and sometimes T'men, tested and stretched her knowledge of such things as discretion and secrecy. Sebell asked a lot of questions about her understanding of the 'abominators'. They talked about why people would be afraid of AIVAS and at great length about why some people would be afraid to talk to harpers.

Later, the men teased at trying to get Mara to discuss her meeting with Masterhealer Oldive. Mara managed to keep the reason for her excitement a secret by repeating that she was anxious to 'earn her keep' at Benden Weyr. When Sebell teased her with "There must be more to it than that", Mara teased him with "Do Harpers need to know everything?"

When the subject of T'men's highly unorthodox, but apparently effective teaching methods arose, Sebell seemed surprised that the bronze rider's training had never been discussed. Mara told him that she knew of his training prior to impressing Reyuth, and that he was too good a teacher to be just an apprentice harper. Then she wondered aloud how a dragonrider could possibly finish harper training.

Sebell scolded T'men. "You haven't told her anything?"

T'men was defensive. "She never asked."

"I didn't want to be impolite!" Mara was a bit defensive as well.

"Ahhh," T'men's eyes laughed as he nodded "I see we need to talk more about socially acceptable topics of discussion, and how to determine an individual's personal boundaries."

"Can she be trusted?" Sebell directed his very serious question at T'men.

"I believe so, Masterharper." T'men responded with equal seriousness.

"Very well, then." Sebell began telling of how, before T'men had unexpectedly impressed Reyuth at Ista Weyr, Masterharper Robinton had seen great potential in young Torlamen – T'men blushed and both men bowed their heads for several heartbeats. After weyrling training, he had continued training at Harper Hall at Fort Hold on a very part-time basis and with extremely non-traditional methods.

"So, you are a harper!" Mara stated this with confidence.

T'men smiled guardedly. "I have no harper knots, but once a harper, always a harper."

"But that is not common knowledge!" Sebell was adamant.

"It's a secret." Mara nodded acceptance and began relating this knowledge to their previous discussion. "So, secret harpers can learn information from people who are afraid to talk to harpers." She studied T'men and began to look worried.

"Does something about that bother you?" Sebell wondered if this had been a mistake.

"Why do you have a secret harper at Benden Weyr? Is . . . Do you suspect that someone here is planning something devious?" She felt no pleasure at using this new word.

Both men laughed. Sebell relaxed considerably and then explained. "Oh, no! Benden Weyr is the best possible reward for a dragonrider/harper who has been overworked."

Mara looked back and forth, obviously wanting to ask a question, but not doing so.

"Do you have a question?" Sebell prompted.

"No such thing as a silly question, remember?" T'men smiled at how often he did have to remind her.

Mara thought for a moment longer. "How were you overworked at Ista Weyr?"

T'men and Sebell exchanged a long meaningful glance before T'men offered "We haven't covered much history, yet."

"After a full sevenday?" Sebell pretended disbelief and disgust before addressing T'men again. "Well, that can wait for a little while." He pointed toward the other end of the large bowl. "It looks like the festivities are nearing an end. Perhaps we should continue this meeting elsewhere."

The sun had dropped far enough into the west to cause shadows from the high peaks to be creeping up the eastern wall of the crater and the air in the bowl was beginning to cool. Mara roused Kimi, who quickly jumped to Sebell's shoulder to resume her nap, and stood with very little trouble before picking up the picnic tray.

The four of them, including Kimi, walked back north along the wall side by side, Mara carrying the picnic tray laden with empty bowls, mugs and pots.

Sebell continued his questioning. "I have been told that you can hear dragons at a great distance. Is that correct?"

"That's what . . . I was told." She looked at Sebell for any indication as to whether their sources might be the same – Lessa.

"And that you can tell in which direction the dragon's voices come from?"

Mara nodded, deducing that his source had been either Lessa or F'lar.

Sebell stopped walking and pointed in a southwesterly direction. "How far can you hear dragons in that direction?"

Mara took a deep breath and turned toward the southwest. Her eyes seemed to lose focus as she searched. "I can hear a dragon hunting wild wherry. And I can hear dragons talking about Thread tomorrow." She frowned. "I can hear some very unhappy dragons."

When she shuddered, T'men took the tray from her as Sebell prompted for more. "Why are they unhappy?"

Mara shook her head slowly. "It's all jumbled. Something about 'she should know better', and 'the eggs deserve better'," she gasped "and someone is really upset at his rider for hurting someone. He keeps repeating 'she was a person, too'." Mara refocused her eyes and turned in confused fear to Sebell. "A dragonrider would never kill someone, would he?"

Sebell stared at her blankly as Kimi roused suddenly, screeched, and launched into the air. "Not unless absolutely necessary, dear." Sebell put a hand on her shoulder and turned her back to the north. As he gently pushed her to walk again, he glared concern at T'men. "We won't worry about it right now. There's nothing we can do from here."

T'men's eyes closed tight as he shook his head slowly, jaw muscles working furiously. He took a deep breath and followed the Masterharper.

Sebell laid an arm over Mara's shoulders and studied her face. "You hear fire lizards, and dragons. Do you hear people, too?" He detected a slight shudder, but pretended not to notice.

Mara blinked several times before looking at the curious Masterharper. "Do you mean peoples' thoughts?" When he only nodded, she looked away. "That would be rude!" She deftly moved out from under his arm and turned back to T'men. "Let me take that, T'men!" She took the tray from the bronze rider and walked quickly ahead of the men. "You gentlemen take your time. I'll just run these to the kitchen."

As the big woman rushed out of hearing range, Sebell and T'men smiled at each other. "This will work" said Sebell.

T'men's smile faded. "I find the thought of such a woman in such a situation to be extremely distasteful."

"Understood, my friend." Sebell put a hand on T'men's shoulder and, as they made their way back to the main cavern began discussing additional training she would need.

F'lar met them at the entrance to the main cavern with a question on his face. Sebell nodded a smile just before Lessa and Mara joined them. Mara carried another tray, this time with six empty mugs, several bowls of snacks and a pitcher of water. Lessa carried two wine skins and did not appear to be happy. Kimi let out a muffled screech and flew away.

The majority of Hatching day visitors had left Benden Weyr and those remaining were families long separated by distance who were taking full advantage of the opportunity to catch up with their relatives. They were welcomed to stay, of course, as long as they caused no trouble, but would have to leave before the sun set in a couple more hours.

F'lar took the wine skins from Lessa, flung them over one shoulder and placed his other arm over her tense shoulders. He led the others across the bowl, back to the Council room.

Lessa entered first and took her customary seat at the near end of the table. Mara was next and set the tray on the table in front of Lessa. "I should go help L'ret, now" she said to Lessa.

"Not yet, dear." Lessa patted the table to her right. "Sit here, please."

F'lar entered, dropped the wine skins on the table and walked to the other end where he would normally sit. On seeing the glare from his weyrwoman's face, he smiled and decided that this should probably be a more casual meeting. He walked the other side of the table and sat opposite Mara, on Lessa's left side.

Sebell sat next to F'lar, and T'men sat next to Sebell. F'lar laid a hand on the table, palm side up, offering it to Lessa. When she glared at the hand, he reached instead for the mugs and a wine skin. "Would you like some wine, Mara?"

"No, thank you, Weyrleader F'lar."

Footsteps could be heard entering the tunnel to the room as F'lar poured five mugs of wine and began handing them to those already gathered.

"No wine?" F'nor walked loudly to a chair a couple away from Mara and glared at her. "Everyone at Benden Weyr drinks wine!"

Mara studied this difficult man through squinting eyes. "Not me, Wingsecond F'nor."

The brown rider slapped a hand down on the table. "But it's a requirement . . ."

"No, it is not!" Lessa spoke quietly, but firmly. "Stop teasing, F'nor." When he nodded disgruntled acceptance, Lessa pored a mug of water and handed it to Mara.

"Thank you, Weyrwoman Lessa."

"You are quite welcome, Mara."

F'lar chuckled. "Mara, this is going to be a very informal meeting, so please, call me by my name?"

"Yes, sir." She grimaced and tried again. "Yes, F'lar."

F'lar smiled reassurance at her and turned to the Masterharper. "Would you like to begin, Sebell?"

"Yes, I would, F'lar." He winked at Mara and continued speaking. "I've learned that Mara is capable of hearing dragons even at a far distance. You, Lessa have informed me that she can speak to dragons as well – even to all dragons." He looked at Mara and waited for a confirming nod. "I have witnessed her conversing quite effectively with my fire lizard Kimi. But," and he turned an accusing face to Mara "she has most adroitly refused to tell me if she can hear peoples' thoughts." Then he turned to Lessa.

Lessa nodded at him and then turned to Mara. "You kept our secret."

"Yes, Lessa."

"You haven't told anyone?"

"No, Lessa."

"Even G'raden?"

Mara winced. "He might suspect. Masterhealer Oldive asked me about it this morning."

Sebell addressed Lessa. "Oldive told me, through Kimi, that she refused to talk about such horrible things." After a few moments, he asked Mara to repeat, for F'lar and Lessa's benefit, what she had overheard from the 'unhappy dragons'.

Mara repeated all the thoughts she had heard, but left out her interpretation.

"You thought that the last dragon's rider might have killed someone, Mara." Sebell waited for her to nod. "What made you think that?"

"The dragon was really upset. He kept repeating 'she was a person, too'. I had a strong feeling that he did more than just hurt her."

Lessa closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

Sebell took this as acceptance of an undesirable truth. "I think Mara is quite capable of assisting with our project."

"What project?" Mara was totally lost. She quickly went over all that the Masterharper had covered this day and still wondered what she was missing.

She scanned the people at the table; Lessa sat staring at her clasped hands on the table, red-faced, seemingly about to explode; F'lar smiled and nodded and moved one hand as if to hold Lessa's, but pulled it back; Sebell wore what Mara was quickly coming to know as 'the harper smile'; T'men seemed to be lost in thought, but quickly graced her with another 'harper smile'; and when Mara looked at F'nor, he did explode – with laughter.

Mara glared at the Wingsecond and demanded, "What!"

TO BE CONTINUED

* * *

OK, still not through this day! This was supposed to be a short story! Any complaints?


	14. A special project

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey: Thank you for allowing me to play with your property!

* * *

**Same Day – Same Meeting - Continued**

Weyrleader F'lar, Weyrwoman Lessa, Masterharper Sebell, Wingleaders T'men and F'nor, and Mara all sat at one end of the massive stone table in the Council Room of Benden Weyr. The four men all laughed as Lessa glared at each of them. Mara was confused, but glared at F'nor, who for some unknown reason, at least to her, rubbed her hide the wrong way just by looking her direction.

"The girl seems awfully impatient" F'nor directed at F'lar even as he kept an eye on Mara.

Sebell's laughter subsided first and was replaced with something closer to compassion. "I believe any of us would be just as impatient were we sitting in her position right now."

"And short-tempered!" F'nor grinned ominously at the big woman who seemed about to tackle him.

"I'm a bit short-tempered myself, F'nor." Lessa was not at all amused by what was happening and spoke quite sternly. "Do you wish to push me any further?"

The brown rider's eyebrows shot up as his grin vanished. "Of course not, my dear Lessa."

"Sebell, I suggest you fill us in on the details of this 'project'." Lessa turned suspicious eyes to the Masterharper. "F'lar didn't have much time for details."

"Of course, Lessa. As most of you know, but I will repeat for Mara's enlightenment," he directed the rest to Mara "Cosira and G'dened have been weyrleaders of Ista Weyr for just over fifteen turns. Cosira and G'dened are both what we call 'old-timers', but I'll let T'men tell you more about that later." When Mara nodded acceptance, he continued. "Neither of them was very enthusiastic about the discovery of AIVAS or about the disbursal of information extracted from AIVAS. During their reign as weyrleaders, they have systematically tried to deny everyone in their weyr access to information from outside."

To Lessa, he added "What you may not be aware of, Lessa, is that recently, they have become even more aggressive in their attempts to shut out the rest of Pern. They have actually been searching rider's belongings and even their weyrs. They destroyed T'men's books, calling them contraband material. And, they began excluding T'men from most all extra activities not dealing directly with fighting Thread. The Istan dragons were ordered by Cosira's Caylith not to converse with Reyuth, and even T'men's long-time weyrmate moved out and began shunning him as if she had been threatened. When dragons and riders flying Thread over T'men began missing more and more clumps of Thread, and you had an unfortunate, but timely opening for another bronze rider, I strongly urged T'men to request a transfer." Lessa's face turned to stone at the mention of the 'lost' bronze rider. "The Istan weyrleaders were delighted to grant his request, as now they have no one in the weyr with any past connections to Harper Hall."

"As I'm sure you are also aware, Lessa, Caylith has a clutch of eggs ready to hatch any day now. Since T'men's transfer, Harper Hall has been hearing disturbing news from Southern Hold. Istan dragons seem to be searching for candidates in Southern Hold rather than anywhere on the Northern continent. And just yesterday, to my utter amazement, a bronze rider from Ista requested Harper Hall's assistance in finding several experienced drudges to help with their new group of weyrlings. As you probably recall, Lessa, one of the junior queens at Ista hatched a clutch just a month ago, so, now, Ista requests extra help from other Weyrs. The interesting part of their request is that they require only drudges; they claim to have plenty of weyrlingmaster assistants and other dragonriders to assist; all they need is a few experienced drudges."

"So, they are so ignorant that they believe all drudges to be simple minded and uneducated." Lessa's rage was barely suppressed.

"So it would seem. And then I recalled T'men's mention of Mara." He smiled at Mara, but his eyes were dark. "You may well be under-educated, Mara, but you are very far from simple minded. And with your pre-existing skills," he pointed to his head "you would be the perfect 'drudge' to help us figure out what Ista is up to."

"Because they don't know that I can hear dragons. Or people. And they don't know that I can think to other people."

"Exactly." Sebell's eyes began to lighten a bit. "But, I would still like to see some evidence of your ability to hear people's thoughts. Can you tell what each of us is thinking without us directing thoughts to you?"

Mara began to frown. "Mama said it was better to wait for people to tell you what they are thinking." Then she looked at Lessa. "And it's not polite to hear people's thoughts without permission." Then she looked at Sebell and then T'men. "But, sometimes politeness has to be set aside to learn truth." Then she nodded at Sebell. "I have your permission?"

"You do, Mara." T'men, and then Lessa and F'lar also gave their permission to listen to their thoughts.

Mara closed her eyes and took a deep breath as her frown grew deeper. She opened her eyes and looked at Lessa. "You are worried about the danger I would be in." She looked at F'lar and chuckled slightly. "You are excited that this 'project' might actually work." She looked at Sebell and smiled. "You are extremely hopeful at the prospect of gaining valuable information about Ista's 'objectives'. I don't know that word."

Sebell smiled warmly. "Plans."

"Ahh." Mara then looked at T'men and smiled. "You are also worried, but hopeful and already planning what we need to cover before this 'project' begins." She looked at F'nor and grimaced. "I don't need to hear you thoughts to know that you don't believe that I can do this."

"I didn't give you my permission." F'nor glared at Mara.

"I didn't listen to your thoughts. I read your face."

"All right, you have my permission. What am I thinking, now?" F'nor needed proof.

Mara grinned at him. "You're thinking that maybe I'm smarter than you thought."

F'nor let out a quick whoosh of breath. "Lucky guess."

"Now you're thinking that you might have to be careful what you think around me." Mara grinned almost wickedly.

"That's enough. I'm convinced. I withdraw my permission."

F'lar and T'men laughed at F'nor's obvious discomfort. Sebell needed more information. "Very good, Mara. Now, are you able to send thoughts to each of us?"

Mara looked at Lessa. _You don't need to worry, Lessa. Ista Weyr can't be any more dangerous than the docks of Keroon._

Lessa fumed. "You were never alone on the docks of Keroon!"

Mara's forced a tight smile as defiance spread over the rest of her face. "At the end of each day, when Da collected our pay, he would run to the nearest alehold. I've walked alone to wherever we lived at the time for the last fifteen turns, ever since my brothers left."

Lessa looked stunned. Her eyes shifted from disbelief and doubt to sorrow mixed with admiration. Only Mara witnessed the shift, or the messages. Her smile softened as her eyes went wide.

"Do you need to look at someone to think to them?" asked Sebell.

Mara looked back at Lessa and directed a thought to the Masterharper. _Kimi showed me pictures of you swimming in the ocean with two children. Are they yours?_ And then she directed a thought to T'men. _T'men, can you teach me about knots so I won't embarrass myself again?_

Both men laughed. Sebell had a hand over his mouth. "That is amazing! F'lar, you can think to Mara. How do you do it?"

F'lar grinned at the Masterharper. "What works for me, as explained by Mara, is to think 'real loud' at her. And, Lessa and I have discovered that it also helps to visualize the person you want to think to."

Sebell tried it. _They most likely are my children. They love swimming._

T'men tried as well. _Knot identification is on the list._

F'nor didn't want to be left out. _Your eyes lose focus. Any one at Ista Weyr would think you're talking to a dragon._

Mara smiled at Sebell. "They look like you." And to T'men, "Thank you." Her smile faded a bit as she addressed F'nor. "That's a good thing to know. Thank you! And I'll work on it."

"What's a good thing to know?" asked Sebell, to Mara.

Mara opened her mouth to answer, but F'nor beat her to it. "Her eyes lose focus. Anyone at Ista will think she's talking to a dragon."

Sebell smiled at Mara, who could see his next request. While still looking into the Masterharper's eyes, she addressed F'nor. _I said I would work on it._

"Ahh, I see." Sebell's smile faded briefly, and quickly transformed into his 'harper smile' complete with laughing eyes. "As a mere drudge, chances are slim that you will ever look anyone in the eyes, or even the face, at Ista."

Understanding quickly overtook Mara. She bowed her head and spoke to the table just in front of Sebell. "You're right, of course," her eyes just briefly touched his face before lowering again to the table "Masterharper, sir." And then she focused on F'nor. _There's more than one way to solve a problem._

F'nor squinted at her. "Yes, there is!" Then they both turned questioning eyes to Sebell.

"Ha! I saw no evidence of your 'thinking' to anyone." And then he laughed. "This is amazing! Is it this easy over large distances?"

To answer the Masterharper's question, F'nor and T'men each flew their dragons in different directions, neither of them telling the remaining group where they were going. They each tried first to 'think' to Mara and were successful. Mara pointed out which direction they were each located before the riders confirmed to Sebell (who was thrilled to participate) where exactly on Pern they had flown.

At Lessa's suggestion, to all present and F'nor and T'men with the same thought, the riders moved to other locations and would let Mara 'think' to them. Lessa also asked Ramoth to monitor – could she hear Mara 'thinking' to F'nor and T'men? Mara contacted each man and pointed in their direction, before the riders again confirmed their locations, this time to F'lar.

Queen Ramoth reported that the only contact she was aware of was with F'lar, but that was probably due to her close association with F'lar's Mnementh.

Sebell was almost beside himself with excitement at the prospects for this 'new' ability, until Lessa reminded him that using this skill could prove quite intrusive if not used properly. She strongly suggested that it not be used unnecessarily. Lessa, F'lar and Sebell discussed the pros and cons of sharing knowledge of what had transpired, and all agreed that this was not the time, but that it could be very useful within certain circles.

After F'nor and T'men returned to the chamber, Mara's immediate training needs were discussed. It was decided that she would spend the rest of this day with Weyrlingmaster L'ret. Lessa would fill him in on what exactly she needed to know as soon as possible. Mara would also spend the first few hours of the next day with L'ret to learn morning routines. F'nor insisted on testing her self-defense skills, if she had any, which he seriously doubted, and all agreed that an hour before the midday meal would be the best time. And then Mara would spend the rest of the day with T'men, learning as much as possible about the harper side of this 'project'.

As Lessa left the meeting with Mara, after insisting that the big woman with the loudly complaining stomach take a bowl of snacks not eaten during the meeting, the men began debating why this 'ability' had not been discovered earlier. As the women passed through the tunnel from the chamber, they both heard Sebell tell of 'fables' in which people had used this ability.

Lessa was quiet as they walked along the east wall to the weyrling barracks. Near the halfway point, she stopped, looked around to be sure they wouldn't be overheard and turned her concerned eyes to Mara. "Mara, are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to, you know."

Mara smiled slowly, studying the face of the woman she would like to call a friend. "Yes, I want to do this. It could be fun!" She over-exaggerated the last word, hoping to bring about a smile.

Lessa did not smile. Instead, her face contorted into a mask of angry disbelief. "Fun! How could this be fun?"

"I don't mean fun like . . . swimming. I mean fun like exciting, interesting, new, meaningful, and useful, even educational." She maintained a half smile, still hoping to relieve Lessa's worry.

The weyrwoman closed her eyes and shook her head before looking at the big woman. "You are an enigma!"

"What's . . ."

"Look it up!" Lessa began walking again.

"Lessa?" Mara tried a different tact after a short distance.

"What?" Lessa kept walking.

"Who did T'men replace?"

Lessa tripped, but kept moving. "It's not your concern, Mara." She spoke gently, but firmly.

Mara pushed her luck. "I guess G'raden would know."

Lessa stopped dead in her tracks and glared at Mara, who simply observed the emotions playing across the strong little woman's usually controlled visage. Mara saw anger, possibly for some kind of intrusion, begrudging understanding, confusion, a flash of fear, more anger, a desire to release, confusion, more anger, and finally resolution, all in the short span between two heartbeats. "Sit down" Lessa said kindly.

They sat cross-legged, face to face, Lessa's face full of uncertain determination, and Mara's open and inviting. "T'men replaced my son, F'lessan." When the big woman only closed her eyes and said nothing, she continued. "He's alive, and so is Golanth, but F'lessan may never walk without a limp and Golanth may never be able to launch into flight."

Mara had no idea what to say. She knew Lessa would probably not appreciate pity, but an injured son with a dragon who couldn't fly? "Oh, Lessa." She offered her hands, wanting to hug her tight, but not sure if that would be appreciated either.

Lessa took Mara's hands and lowered her head to hide tears that began to emerge. "They seem to be doing all right. They have lots of very good friends helping them, but . . . F'lessan says they've found a new mission in life." She let out a small chuckle. "He never had any desire to follow in F'lar's footsteps. But . . ." she tried to choke back sobs.

Mara rubbed the backs of her small hands with her thumbs. "But, what, Lessa?"

Lessa's words were almost lost in her sobs. "I don't know what to do to help him." She looked up at Mara and grimaced pitifully. "I was never a very good mother to him."

"I find that very hard to believe, Lessa." Mara gave her an exaggerated scowl. "I would bet that you did everything you possibly could . . ."

"I never had time!"

"Ahhh, the Weyrwoman of Benden Weyr didn't have time for her son. Imagine that!" Mara waited for Lessa to look at her again and then smiled teasingly. "I'll bet you made sure he had the best fostering available anywhere."

"Manora is the best."

"And I'll bet he got the very best training."

"We've always been blessed by the Harper Hall." Lessa's tears were slowing.

"And I'll bet you gave him all the best opportunities – I hope that's the right word."

"We didn't spoil him!" Now she was defensive.

"Oh, shards. Almost perfect." Mara grinned and smiled broadly at Lessa's smile. "Do you support him in his 'new mission'?"

"Of course, I do!" She seemed insulted. "He is the best possible man to run Honshu Weyrhold and to manage the sky watching there!"

"Well, Lessa," Mara turned haughty "you sound like the perfect mother to me!"

Lessa smiled at the big woman, but cocked her head. "I should have spent more time with him."

"And let slip your duties to Benden and all of Pern?" Lessa frowned, but then sighed. "You did all you possibly could for your son, Lessa. And if you had spent more time with him, what part of you would be missing from Pern today?"

Lessa sighed deeply and wondered why Mara's words made her feel better. F'lar had tried to tell her something very similar. What had been different? She had pretended to accept what he had said just a few months ago, not wanting to appear weak, or slow, in his eyes. And then she had kept her shame (did she really feel ashamed?) hidden, to be dealt with at a more appropriate time.

Mara watched as Lessa seemed to relax, but worried a bit that she seemed to grow somber. "We can't change the past, Lessa" she said gently.

Lessa frowned at her, but the frown very quickly metamorphosed into a grinning scowl. "Oh, you and your platitudes!"

"Platitudes?" Mara feigned horror. "I'll look it up."

Now Lessa chuckled. She reached her hands to the sides of Mara's face and pulled her head till their foreheads met. "Thank you, Mara."

Mara put her hands on Lessa's arms and squeezed gently. Not knowing what to say, she just shrugged.

Lessa pushed Mara away and stood quickly. "Ramoth says F'lar's been watching us. Let's go."

Mara followed quickly. "What's wrong with that?"

With a shake of her head, Lessa answered. "F'lar doesn't know that this was still bothering me." She looked up at Mara, somewhat apologetic. "I'd rather he didn't know."

"Ohhh. Well, I'm just a little scared, and you offered me some advice," she grinned "and I am so very grateful that you would take so much time, Lessa."

Lessa couldn't help laughing. This woman could be a real asset to Harper Hall. They walked a few dragonlengths before Lessa stopped Mara. "Are you a little scared?"

Mara smiled. "More than a little!"

Lessa laughed at her honesty. "Do you have any questions I might be able to answer?"

The big woman's smile faded and a bit of fear shown in her hazel eyes. "Just one, Lessa. If I do this 'project' for the Masterharper," she hesitated as if afraid of the answer "will I be able to come back here to Benden Weyr?" Tears threatened to flow, but Mara blinked them away.

Lessa gasped. "Oh, Mara!" She reached her arms up to the big woman. "Come here!" When Mara bent down to accept her hug, she wrapped her arms around her neck and answered. "You will always be welcome at Benden Weyr!" When Mara hugged her tighter and sniffed, she continued. "As long as you want to be here, you are welcome!"

Mara had her hands on the weyrwoman's shoulder blades and pulled just a little tighter. "Thank you, Lessa." She sniffed again and then chuckled. "Now, we won't be lying to F'lar."

Lessa laughed as she released the big woman. She took her by the hand and led her toward the weyrling barracks, and away from the approaching weyrleader.

"Lessa? What's wrong?" F'lar was barely a dragonlength away.

Lessa turned her head as she continued walking, still holding Mara's hand, winking at her as she turned. "Oh, just a little girl talk, F'lar. We're back to business now." She turned away from him. "We'll talk later, dear."

F'lar stopped in his tracks. Girl talk? Lessa? What was it about that dock worker? He watched as they met up with L'ret, and thought to himself "Well, at least my lady is smiling."

About halfway between F'lar and L'ret, Mara looked at Lessa. "Can Ramoth keep this from Mnementh?"

Lessa grinned. "My dear Ramoth understands perfectly well the need for some secrets."

After Lessa explained what was required, but not why, Mara spent what was left of the day in the weyrling barracks. L'ret had her read more of his transcripts between helping where he thought she might learn the most about weyrling drudge duties. As time permitted, L'ret answered her questions, which she tried to keep relevant to the 'project' – other questions could wait until she returned.

Mara smiled secretly each time she thought about Lessa's confirmation that she would be coming back. Benden Weyr felt more like a home than anywhere she had been in the last twenty-five turns.

As the bowl grew dark, and after the moons rose, L'ret began slowing down, and Mara's eyes became bloodshot. When all the weyrlings and their half-day-old dragons were finally settled and quiet, L'ret kicked Mara out of the barracks, declaring that 'she' needed some rest, and that she was not to wake early – that's why he had assistants.

Mara left the barracks even more excited than when she had arrived, but bone tired. She looked up to find G'raden and Normond's weyr. It was dark, so she walked toward the main cavern at the other end of the bowl. She would spend the night in 'her room', and maybe catch a bite to eat before retiring.

L'ret watched her leave, look up at the dark weyr, and start her long walk. He shook his head in disbelief and then bespoke his life-mate. A few minutes later, he smiled as Normond, G'raden astride, dropped from their weyr.

Mara was so busy going over all that she had learned and all that she still had to learn, she didn't even hear the few dragons in the weyr who were still awake. But as she was about to enter the main cavern, the whoosh of air from a dragon's backwinging caught her attention. She turned to see who was up this late, and was thrilled to see G'raden sliding down Normond's side. "What are you doing up this late?"

G'raden grinned like a little boy caught sneaking into the kitchen. "We were waiting for you!"

"I didn't see any light, so I thought you were sleeping."

G'raden tried to say "Ahh," but it turned into a yawn. He rolled his eyes and hedged the truth a bit. "Almost." He put his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

Mara leaned into him and let her head rest on his shoulder. "Mmmm. I'm a little hungry. Do you mind?"

"Nah." He turned her toward the big hall. "There should be something warm on the hearth."

Just inside the entrance, they each took a small ladle of stew from the simmering pot kept warm at all hours of the night. G'raden found a pitcher of water and poured them each a mug. They sat and ate between yawns, talking only briefly between bites. When they finished eating, G'raden took their bowls and mugs to the kitchen area while Mara collected some clothing for the next day.

Mara greeted Normond before they mounted with his help, same as the night before. Normond flew lazily up and around the bowl several times before gliding into his weyr for a slightly less than perfect landing. He was tired, too. G'raden slid off, turned to catch Mara, and then kept an arm around her waist as they walked to his sleeping room.

Before passing the dragon covered hanging, G'raden turned to be sure Normond was comfortable. As the huge bronze dragon circled his couch and finally plopped down with a sigh, G'raden pulled back the hanging and led Mara inside.

Once inside, he pulled her around, took her in his arms and was about to pull her close when he noticed a barely discernable sadness in her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Mara looked down at her hands on his chest. "Nothing."

G'raden put his hands to the side of her head and forced her to look at him. "Please, don't lie to me" he pleaded.

Mara looked into his big brown eyes and nearly melted with shame. She didn't want to lie to him, but had promised to keep some secrets – oh how she hated secrets. She did not want to hurt this kind, sweet man. "Ista Weyr needs some help with a second batch of weyrlings. I think Lessa and F'lar are going to send me."

His mouth hung open as if he were about to say something, but the words didn't come. He let his hands slide down her neck, over her shoulders and to her upper arms, where he held her firmly. "When?" he finally managed to ask.

"Soon. In the next couple of days." Mara had trouble looking at him, not wanting to see him upset.

He nearly gasped. His eyes closed as he fought to hold back tears. "How long?"

"A sevenday or two." Mara was stunned by the hurt this seemed to be causing him. "Just till the new weyrlings settle into their routine."

"Why you?"

Mara shrugged. "Because I hear dragons." That alone didn't make sense even to her, so she added "and because Masterharper Sebell thinks I can help Harper Hall learn a few things about Ista."

"They're using you to spy on Ista Weyr?" G'raden was incredulous, his voice growing louder as his whole body and face stiffened and began to shake.

"I'll just be listening, G'raden. I won't be talking to anyone." She couldn't believe how angry he was about this when she was so excited. "G'raden, don't you see? Not only will I be earning my keep here at Benden Weyr, I'll be helping the Masterharper of Pern to protect other people on Pern."

"Do you know how dangerous that could be?" He nearly bellowed. He shook her briefly and regretted it immediately. He let go, raised his arms into the air as if to clutch his head and then slowly and gently laid his hands on her shoulders.

Mara would have normally backed away from a man who was so angry, but could see that this man was angry not at her, but for her. He was angry that she might be in danger. "More dangerous than the docks of Keroon?"

G'raden studied her face, and then pushed her out to arms length. "How did such a sweet woman manage in Keroon?" His anger seemed to be abating, but only slightly.

Mara pursed her lips and then half-grinned. "Not everyone in Keroon would consider me sweet. I do know how to take care of myself." When he looked rather doubtful, she quickly, but very gently, hit the insides of each of his wrists with the knuckles of her fists. Her hands quickly dropped and opened, their knife edges hitting gently between the lowest two ribs on each side of his barrel chest. She took him by the waist and pulled as one knee rose quickly to a point halfway up the inside of his thighs.

His knees reflexively drew together as his hips flew backward. He gasped as his jaw dropped and his eyes showed white all around the dark brown irises.

A large bronze muzzle pushed a corner of the dragon weaving aside until a large, very orange splattered eye could see the pair in the sleeping room.

And then G'raden laughed - the loudest belly laugh Mara had ever heard from the big man. He laughed until he had to hold his stomach as he doubled over even further. When he came close to regaining control, he looked up at her innocent eyes and wicked grin and howled again.

Mara put her hands on his shoulders, which were just above her waist height, and gently pushed him toward his bed. "You better sit down."

As he sat on the bed, he took her hands from his shoulders and placed them on his thighs. "Come here." When she knelt down in front of his still closed knees, he began to grow somber. "So, just how did those men manage to get the best of you?"

Mara took a deep breath and released it quickly as one eyebrow rose. "Someone hit me on the head from behind - knocked me right into between."

Two large hands gently tilted her head. Two large thumbs parted the waves of her hair and gently pressed a still visible lump.

"Don't try to fix it, G'raden. I've seen what it does to you."

"Just makes me tired."

Mara took his wrists and moved them away as she gave him a 'don't you dare' glare.

"Ahhh." G'raden grinned lasciviously. "So, you can do anything you want, now?"

"As long as it doesn't hurt."

He spread his knees and began to pull her closer. "Can you . . . " he spoke very slowly in his deepest bass and almost laughed when she blushed "take a bath?"

Mara laughed. "As long as it doesn't hurt."

G'raden turned serious. "If anything we do hurts, you just say so, and we can stop, all right?"

Mara nodded, grateful for his concern, but hoping beyond hope that they would not have to stop. "All right."

G'raden lifted her by the waist to a standing position, and then let her help him up, grinning at her deepening blush. He turned her with an arm around her waist and noticed the big bronze muzzle draped with the dragon hanging.

"Normond?"

Normond huffed as Mara and G'raden laughed at the sight of the huge dragon's head lodged in the entrance.

"Did I scare you, Normond?"

_Not me!_

Mara turned to G'raden. "Did I scare you, G'raden?"

G'raden grinned and turned red. "Yeah!"

All three laughed or huffed as G'raden led Mara to the necessary room.

"I'm sorry, G'raden." Mara tried to be sincere as laughter continued to escape.

"I'm not!" declared G'raden. "Now I won't worry as much."

G'raden turned just his head to Normond. "Good night, my protective one."

_Good night my silly ones._

Mara was thrilled all over again to hear Normond include her. "Good night, handsome one."

As G'raden pulled aside the curtain to the bathing area, Mara asked, "Did I tell you that F'nor wants to test my self defense skills tomorrow?"

"Ho ho! I want to see that! When?"

"Sometime before midday meal."

Normond backed carefully out of the relatively small opening to his mates sleeping chamber, huffing as he went, causing the dragon covered curtain to billow slightly into the room. He turned and waddled somewhat awkwardly to his couch, feeling his rider's anticipation. He curled down and around the indentation and found just the right spot, and then huffed again. He fell asleep pleased for his life-mate, huffing each time his tail involuntarily twitched.

* * *

One of these days, I'll manage another shorter chapter, or I could just cut them up more. Which would you prefer?


	15. Special training

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey: Thank you for allowing me to play with your property!

* * *

**Next morning**

Mara woke a couple of hours past sun rise. As Rukbat rose over the eastern edge of the bowl, her light hit the western side of Normond's weyr entrance at the highest, most southern end of the bowl, and bounced off the wall, the floor, and the ceiling to gently light up the many flying dragons on the hanging between the dragon's weyr and his rider's sleeping area.

Mara stroked the furry arm that held her back tight to G'raden's chest, marveling at how such a 'big, scary looking man' could be so sweet and kind and considerate. She slid her left shoulder away from him to lie on her back and looked into his . . . open! . . . brown eyes. "How long have you been awake?" she asked the smiling giant.

"Mmm, not long." He ran his big hand down her chest and over her belly, grinning at her body's responses. "You want more?"

Mara shivered and couldn't help but giggle as she ran her hand up his arm to his broad, deeply tanned, full face. She stroked his cheek with a thumb as she answered. "I want anything you're willing to give, but . . ."

_Duranth is asking if you are awake yet, Mara._

G'raden groaned, scooted down in the bed and laid his head on Mara's chest. Mara stroked his thick, short, dark hair and lifted her head to kiss the top of his.

_Would you mind telling Duranth that I will be down soon, Normond?_ Mara bespoke both dragon and rider.

_Duranth says that L'ret says you had better eat a good breakfast. You will be busy this morning._

_Thank you, Normond._

_I'm hungry, too, my grouchy one._

G'raden jokingly half-laughed and half-cried as he squeezed Mara tight. "Guess I'll have to save this for later."

Mara giggled as she ran her hands down his broad, thick back and then ran her fingers back up. "Come on. It's time to earn our keep!"

G'raden laughed at her genuine excitement and then grudgingly rolled away and onto the floor with a thud. "Ugh! I need a bigger bed."

Mara rolled to the edge and, seeing he was not hurt, chuckled as he lay on his back with his arms over his head. "I can't believe you don't already have a bigger bed."

The big brown eyes looked directly at her forehead. "I never needed it."

"Don't lie!"

"Much." He looked into her eyes then, and seeing not upset, but humor, told her a little more. "Maybe a few nights at a time."

"I find that very hard to believe!" Mara was getting a tiny bit upset, but not at the man sprawled on the floor.

"Maybe a sevenday at most." He studied her face for any signs that this too might be a short-lived relationship. "Then it's just me again. Don't need a bigger bed for just me."

"I thought the women of this weyr were smarter than that, G'raden. What kind of fool would walk away from you?" When he scowled, she wondered what the rest of his story could be. It couldn't be his well known temper – he barely shook her last night, and then seemed so apologetic. She put a hand down on his chest and stroked gently. "You are so kind, and thoughtful," she caressed his cheek "and smart, and funny," her hand ran around his strong chin and down his neck "and so handsome," her hand ran down his chest "and strong," and down his belly "and oh, so considerate."

He took her wrist in his big hand and pulled it away from where she was headed. Grinning, he pulled her by that arm off the bed, to land on top of him. They both grunted when she landed right where he had intended, square on top of him, lined up just perfect . . . and then she moved.

Mara pulled herself up his body and straddled his belly. "You don't talk much, though" she teased.

G'raden laughed briefly. "Some wouldn't let me get in a single word!"

"Fools!" She massaged his chest and shoulders.

"None of them ever let me finish a full sentence," he lifted an arm from above his head and placed his hand gently to the side of her face "like you do."

Mara shook her head in disbelief and stroked his cheeks. "Then, they have no idea how smart you are?" Tears filled her eyes – she knew full well the pain of being kept quiet. And this man had so much to offer, not just to anyone who would listen to him, but quite possibly to all of Pern itself.

His strong arms scooted her down to straddle his thighs. With hands on her back, he pulled her down to lay her head on his chest. "Don't cry, pretty lady." He stroked her back with one meaty hand, and her soft, wavy hair with the other, and nearly whispered. "I'll get a bigger bed, if you'll share it with me."

Mara lifted her head to see if he was teasing. Seeing that he was quite serious, a whole new set of tears began filling her eyes. "You might change your mind."

G'raden looked hurt. "I'm no fool!"

Mara tried to wipe away her tears only to have them land on his chest. She tried in vain to wipe those tears of joy from the curly blanket on his chest as he grinned at her, and finally gave up, laying her head down instead. "I'll share your bed with you, no matter what size it is."

They hugged each other tight as he rocked her from side to side, tears escaping his own eyes to roll into his ears. He chuckled at the tickling sensation and lifted his head to kiss the top of hers. "We can tell Manora when we go down to eat."

_Mnementh says there's a big herd of forest running beasts down near the lake._

G'raden and Mara both laughed at Normond's single-mindedness.

As they dressed, Mara teased G'raden about 'abusing' his sweet bronze dragon. G'raden informed her that Normond had eaten just three days earlier and then teased that her clothes were getting too big. Mara had indeed been losing some weight, mostly unused muscle she claimed, but that would change now that she was permitted to actually work again. G'raden laughed at the idea of her working as hard as she had on the docks – he certainly wasn't going to let her work that hard, and he was pretty sure no other dragonrider (at least at Benden Weyr) would let her work that hard either.

They rode an eager bronze dragon as he glided seemingly effortlessly down from their now almost officially shared weyr to an area near the main cavern.

_I hope other dragons won't scare away those beasts at the lake._ Normond bespoke both his riders as soon as they had dismounted.

Mara winked at G'raden and turned back to pat Normond's massive shoulder. She shook her head and let out a long, sad "Oooohhh."

G'raden grinned as he asked "What?"

"Oh, G'raden! Look at this poor bronze dragon. His color is off!" She grinned at G'raden as Normond's head snaked around to see for himself. "And feel this!" She poked a knuckle into his velvety soft, well padded shoulder muscles. "He feels skinny!"

G'raden placed a hand at arm's length on his bronzes shoulder and leaned all his weight on it as he tried to stifle a laugh. "You're right! He feels almost as skinny as me!" He pushed off of Normond and laid a hand between the slowly swirling blue eyes. "One forest beast, Normond! We have to fly Thread tomorrow."

Normond gave two short huffs before addressing his poking friends. _Thank you, Mara! I really like forest running beast._

Bronze Rider T'men noticed the late arriving pair as they walked hand in hand into the dining cavern, smiling and talking as if they had known each other for turns. When they stopped to talk to Headwoman Manora and, after a brief discussion, were each given an unusually affectionate hug by the ever-so-proper headwoman, T'men smiled. His always alert eyes noticed that G'raden was also the recipient of something whispered in his ear. The big man's blush hinted to T'men that the rider and the headwoman had probably shared hugs, and more, in the past.

T'men turned his attention back to his breakfast partners. The 'big brothers', as he had come to think of them, were discussing where they thought the new dragonets and their riders would eventually fit into the wings. G'regg, being his usual apparently single-minded self, had already decided which of the 'little green riders' he and his bronze would like to fly with on their first mating flights, and spoke much louder than necessary when declaring his approval of allowing more girls to stand for the green hatchlings.

T'men nodded politely and laughed when appropriate during G'regg and B'nor's conversation, but kept a discreet eye on G'raden and Mara. He watched them walk to the food tables and pick out what G'raden was packing into a carisak. He watched as the two seemed to argue over whether or not G'raden needed to take a skin of water, and smiled knowingly, when the big man threw a skin over his shoulder. He found himself blinking several times, and trying to swallow a lump in his throat, when the big man and matching woman kissed quickly before the man left, quite apologetically. He caught Mara sighing deeply as G'raden left the cavern and watched her turn purposefully back to the food tables to collect a meal for herself. T'men turned his full attention back to 'the big brothers' and waited, feeling confident that they would soon be joined by a big, sweet, excitedly smiling woman. He was not disappointed.

Mara, full plate in one hand and a tall mug of water in the other, was slightly surprised when, as she approached the table, G'regg and B'nor, and T'men when he turned to see her coming, all stood to greet her. She acknowledged them with "Riders. May I join you?"

She laughed as all three riders gave her different versions of 'Yes, of course' as each of them pulled out chairs next to them. Already being on the same side of the table as T'men, she chose his offered chair, sat her plate and mug on the table, sat down, and was quite surprised when T'men helped her adjust the chair. She squinted slightly as she politely thanked him.

T'men sat down next to her, eyes riveted to hers, which seemed to make her just a bit uncomfortable. That was fine with him, as he did enjoy teasing this woman sometimes. "You look . . . tired, Mara." She almost blushed, but he caught a hint of anger flash through her eyes as she merely smiled back at him.

Mara didn't take her eyes from his, so did notice his slight nod of approval. "Late night." She lifted her chin just slightly, not willing to discuss his unspoken and teasingly invasive curiosity. She was happy to see his barely perceptible nod of acceptance.

"Late night?" G'regg repeated excitedly. "What were you doing up so late?" His eyebrows rose and fell several times.

Mara scowled at T'men and then turned an innocent face to the often obnoxious man at the other side of the table. "I helped with the weyrlings until they were all asleep."

"Ahhh." G'regg had witnessed the nonverbal conversation between Mara and T'men, and knew he wasn't going to get what he wanted from any further teasing. "I remember when I helped at the weyrling barracks." He shook his head slowly from side to side. "I hope they never ask me to do that again! I remember this one young blue rider . . ."

G'regg regaled the other three with stories of his misadventures at the weyrling barracks, and B'nor and T'men each had stories of their own to tell, while Mara ate her breakfast, grateful for their diversion.

When she finished eating, Mara excused herself, but asked T'men if she could talk to him for a bit. B'nor offered to take care of their dishes, so T'men walked her part way to the weyrling barracks.

Just as they stepped out of the main cavern, the watch dragon let out a loud bugle. The watch rider bellowed through cupped hands down into the bowl. "Trader caravan at the bend!" He repeated his call several times.

The energy level in the entire bowl moved up several levels. Mara turned back to the cavern and saw kitchen staff scrambling at Manora's direction. Eaters hurried to finish their meals. Those who were finished quickly lent a hand in cleaning tables and several riders found brooms. Mara wished she could help, but turned back toward the weyrling barracks where she was expected this day. "Is this the caravan with your books?" she asked T'men.

T'men's face was alight with excitement mixed with a bit of worry. "I hope so!"

"Will we have time . . ."

"We'll have time! We might have to practice thinking, though." His worry disappeared with the last statement. They resumed their walk across the bowl. "Have we discussed flexibility?" When Mara shook her head, T'men took on his teacher's persona. "Trees are flexible in the wind, and, except in the worst of storms, continue to grow. Rocks, say in a stream, however, are not flexible, and tend to wear away bit by bit as water passes over them."

They discussed flexibility and how the word also relates to people, and then Mara became silent. T'men studied her with sideways glances, knowing that something was bothering her. She finally stopped and turned to him.

"I told G'raden some of what's going on last night." She was sick that she had not been able to keep all their secrets and sure that there would be some penalty to pay for her lapse.

"Why?" T'men's face gave no indication as to his judgment.

"He knew right away that something wasn't right." When T'men only looked at her, still without any judgment, she continued in a rush. "So I told him that F'lar and Lessa were probably going to send me to Ista Weyr to help with the weyrlings."

"He would have learned that much soon enough." Seeing her discomfort, he knew there was more. "What else did you tell him?"

"He wanted to know why me, so I reminded him that I hear all the dragons, but I could see in his eyes, and it didn't even make sense to me, that he needed more than that." She looked all around them to be certain they were alone. "So I told him that Masterharper Sebell thought I could help learn some things about Ista Weyr." She closed her eyes, ready for whatever punishment T'men might give her. She opened her eyes when he asked one more question.

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

T'men allowed a bit of surprise to show on his face. "Did you tell him why the Masterharper is worried?" She shook her head. "Did you tell him about hearing other people?" He smiled when she shook her head again. "So you didn't tell him about our experiments either, did you?" This was more a statement than a question.

"No. But I really hate lying to him, T'men!" She was on the verge of crying.

T'men put his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently, laughing. "Oh, Mara, you are a natural. You didn't lie to G'raden. You told him only what he would have found out anyway."

"But I didn't tell him everything, and that's the same as lying."

"Lies of omission . . ." He started over with words she would know. "Not telling someone everything you know is sometimes the best way to protect them."

"How?"

T'men thought for a minute about the easiest way for this wonderfully innocent woman to understand some of the harsher realities of life. "If G'raden knew what we already know, and if he knew that you will be listening to all those dragons, and people too, he would worry. He might even worry enough to lose his concentrate during Threadfall." Her wide eyes told him he was following the correct path. "Not telling G'raden everything, Mara, may well save his life while you're at Ista Weyr." Then he watched with regret as understanding finally dawned on her.

Mara looked at T'men and finally nodded. "I understand." After a few heartbeats, she added. "Thank you, T'men."

Now dragonrider/harper T'men would try to lighten her load. "What else did you talk about last night?"

The challenging twinkle in those sky blue 'harper' eyes instantly put Mara back into a better mood. She raised her chin and glared at him, and then turned back to the weyrling barracks and began walking, grinning as she went. "We talked about his furniture."

T'men grinned almost wickedly as he followed a pace behind her. "His furniture?"

Mara walked just a little bit faster. "Uh huh." When T'men's hand touched her shoulder, she stopped and turned to face him. His scowl told her that his teasing was not going as planned. "His bed's too small."

T'men feigned an even deeper, more confused scowl. This was more fun than anything he had experienced since his Harper Hall training days.

A twinkle in his eyes told Mara that T'men wasn't as confused as he pretended. She liked playing his games, even knowing that he often let her win. It was a good way to figure out other people. But, she still had one more move if she was going to win this little game. She pointed to the weyrling barracks. "I've gotta go. Got work to do." She started walking again, but turned back to say "See you later?"

"After noon day meal." He stood watching her walk away. He had willingly given her victory in this verbal sparring match just to cheer her up, but had a strong feeling that, not too far in the future, he might have more competition. He'd have to train her more carefully if he was going to maintain his advantage. He gave her one more boost before she got too far away to hear. "His bed's too small?"

Mara spent the next several hours learning as much as possible about duties a drudge might perform in the weyrling barracks. L'ret informed her that few Weyrs actually used drudges for these duties, as dragonriders, even the newest weyrlings, should be quite capable of taking care of such things. Help from drudges was only needed during the first few days after a hatching, but only if there weren't enough older riders available to help. He seemed quite annoyed by Ista's request for drudges – he was sure they had enough help already, if they would only get off their high and mighty arses.

She, and any weyrlings awake and not feeding or oiling, were taught, by two of L'ret's assistants, the proper methods and tools to use to muck out the dragonet's necessary room. The little ones would continue using this room until they were able to fly to the recently started compost heap, or between, to make their 'deposits'. The composted dung would later be taken to the southern continent to be used by holds as fertilizer and protection from felines. Some farmers on the northern continent were also finding that composted dragon dung was quite desirable on their fields. A few enterprising Benden dragonriders were already developing relationships with those farmers for post-Thread ventures.

As the second-day weyrlings were all consumed with becoming acquainted with their new life-mates, Mara was given nearly private lessons on how to butcher herd beasts and wherries. She sincerely hoped that she would not be asked to kill anything, as she was not at all sure that she could. As a couple of second-turn weyrlings, under the supervision of an older rider, began teaching Mara, two more second-turn weyrlings and another older rider flew north to the always present glaciers for ice. When they returned, one weyrling and his elder landed near the main cavern where they unloaded ice for the cold storage rooms. The second weyrling landed near the butchering site and broke off chunks of ice for the buckets being used as temporary meat storage. She, her two teachers, and several more weyrlings hefted buckets of large meat chunks and strips to the kitchen where they practiced proper, safe and efficient methods of chopping the meat into appropriately sized chunks for the dragonets.

Mara was asked to help several weyrlings, all inner-hold bred, learn how to wash their own clothing. She was thrilled that most were quite receptive to learning all the duties of dragonriders. Only one young man, B'rant, declared loudly that surely dragonriders had more important duties than washing clothing. That was, after all, one of the duties of a common drudge, like Mara. His distaste for the big woman was enough to upset several of the dragonets. In response to the young man's rudeness, L'ret and one of his assistants escorted B'rant and his little bronze dragon to a bed and couch nearest the ventilation shaft that would carry his future stench out of the barracks without bothering other weyrlings and their dragons.

* * *

Normond spiraled up, around and finally out of the bowl of Benden Weyr. He continued climbing and spiraled further out to survey the lake just to the west of the Weyr. A few forest runner beasts were still near the lake. Now, he just needed to find a place to land his rider without spooking the remaining beasts.

While Normond surveyed the lake, G'raden surveyed further out, down the road leading to the Weyr. From their high vantage point, he was the first to see the trader's caravan just about to turn the bend in the road. He asked his bronze mate to inform the watch dragon, and suggested Normond set him down a short distance ahead of the caravan.

Normond obligingly left G'raden just far enough around the bend to not frighten the caravan's dray beasts, and sprang back into the air so quick he nearly knocked his rider to the ground.

G'raden laughed at his excited dragon, but sternly reminded him to take only one beast this day. Then he turned to meet the caravan, pulling a meat roll from his carisak as he walked. The stroll was pleasant - he enjoyed walking at this time of day, before the heat of the summer afternoons. By the time he was in waving distance from the traders, he had finished most of the breakfast Mara had helped him pack, and was very glad that she had insisted he take a skin of water.

The leader of the caravan met him a few dragonlengths ahead of the train. He turned the bronze rider back toward the Weyr as he handed him a 'reward flyer' printed on the newest paper. The first thing G'raden noticed on the flyer was a large drawing of the face of a woman with the most horrific smile he had ever seen. Near the bottom of the page were four more drawings of the most frightening examples of dragonriders he could ever imagine. They all seemed to be growling, teeth bared, eyes ablaze with fearful intent. But one of them, G'raden realized, bore a remarkable resemblance to the face he saw in the polished metal on the wall of his necessary room each morning.

He scowled at the caravan master, who only grinned at him. "Read it!" he said. "These are being delivered all over Pern."

So, G'raden read the flyer. He laughed several times, and cursed several more, and then finally thanked the caravan master. He politely inquired if the leader required any assistance, and when the answer was 'no', he excused himself.

G'raden walked quickly for a short distance, howled a bit of laughter, and then began running.

* * *

Well, there's lot's more that was going into this chapter, but it's getting so long!

Reviews and concrit are all greatly appreciated!


	16. More training

To my dear Lady Holder Anne McCaffrey: Thank you for allowing me to play with your property!

* * *

SAME DAY

Toward the end of the morning, about an hour before the mid-day meal, Mara found herself walking around the weyrling barracks with one of the dragonhealers. The healer would make an assessment of each dragon, checking heart rates, lung sounds, hide condition, tail thickness, and take notes on coloration as well. Then Mara would be asked to 'check' each dragonet. The healer informed each weyrling, that if they ever had trouble pin-pointing a problem, they could seek out Mara as well as any dragonhealer. She made it clear that Mara was not a healer, but was very good at diagnosing problems.

Mara, by merely placing a hand on each dragonet, was able to find several minor problems. A few weyrlings had missed oiling various spots on their dragons; under their wings, where the tail joined the body, and between toes. Two weyrlings, B'rand included, seemed to have an aversion to washing their dragon's sex organs; Mara pointed out that all babies need help in this area, whether from their mothers or their life-mates. Another couple of dragonets hadn't yet been to the necessary room; their people hadn't made the connection between the discomfort they felt near their tail bone and the distended tails of their charges. Each time, she would ask the weyrling to describe what they could feel in their dragon, and then would explain what she felt and show or explain where the problem existed. The healer would elaborate with more detail on possible outcomes if the problem were not corrected.

Weyrlingmaster L'ret observed as the healer and Mara made their rounds, taking note of each weyrling's willingness to learn and which would have to be checked more frequently. He liked the way Mara talked to the weyrlings, and was looking forward to having her help more often. She was a joy to work with and a joy to train, being as willing as the most serious weyrling to learn all she could about dragons.

L'ret, deep in concentration and contemplation, was surprised when Wingleader F'nor put a hand on his shoulder. "Caravan's here." F'nor handed L'ret a neatly squared off sheet of paper. "They and others are handing these out all over Pern."

L'ret read the entire page carefully, glancing at F'nor several times. "Is this a joke?" He studied his fellow brown rider for any signs of mischief. F'nor had played his share of jokes when he was younger, and L'ret did not appreciate being the victim of anyone's jokes.

"No, it is not."

L'ret studied the paper again. "Who drew this? It's hideous!"

F'nor shrugged. "Probably drawn from someone else's memory."

"Someone with a pickled memory?"

F'nor grinned. "Apparently. I've been charged with keeping her in the bowl for awhile." His volume rose so almost everyone in the barracks could hear him. "So, where is that . . . new girl?" He sounded annoyed. "What's her name?"

"Mara!" L'ret bellowed in her direction.

She very quickly excused herself from the weyrling and dragonet she had been talking to, stood to face the weyrlingmaster, and answered nearly as loudly as he had called. "Yes, sir."

"Over here." As she began her trek through the roomful of weyrlings and little dragons, he turned a smug grin to F'nor. "That's the way the weyrlings should be responding."

Both brown riders watched as she made her way through the crowded room and both noticed 'someone's' foot being stuck out with the intent of tripping her. Both had to fight to suppress laughter when a determined foot kicked the other out of the way.

"Oops, sorry, B'rand." The corners of the big woman's mouth twitching upward would have told anyone else that she was on to him.

L'ret made a mental note of the incident. "That boy needs to learn some manners!"

"I could use some help testing her self-defense skills." F'nor's offer oozed conspiracy.

"B'rand! You and Tagamarth will assist Wingleader F'nor." L'ret 'assigned' most of the second-turn weyrlings to assist with the caravan. Those left behind knew why they had been excluded from the privilege.

* * *

Wingleader T'men spent the morning cleaning, though it was quite unnecessary, the old room to be used as the library. It was one of the many rooms found during this pass that had been created by the original occupants of Benden Weyr. F'lar and Lessa's young son, F'lessan, and his friend, Jaxom, found the first three rooms. Since then, further exploration, by adults, had revealed more tunnels and more rooms.

The room to be Benden Weyr's Library was fairly large, with squared off walls and ceiling, and lighting. It was far back in one of the first level tunnels, toward the outer edge of the mountain. When the Weyr Master had suggested this room, T'men had been dubious; it would be a long walk from the inner caverns; but the lighting, even before the covers on the reflective tubing had been cleaned, was phenomenal. Reyuth had been instrumental in helping clean the covers placed on the outside western wall of the mountain centuries earlier. T'men smiled when he recalled Mastersmith Fandarel's reaction to the light tubes – 'It's so efficient!' Solar electric lighting would only be necessary at night and on the cloudiest of days.

The new library would be large enough for far more shelving and books than what was being delivered this day. Even with ten times the shelving, T'men envisioned tables and chairs at one end of the room for reading and some of the classes he hoped to conduct.

As he left the spotless and bare library, T'men wondered how many times this day alone he had thanked the first egg and Sebell for his current abundance of good fortune. As he made the long walk to the main cavern, he tried to list all the good things that had happened, and all the good people he had met, since his transfer just about a month ago. When comparisons with Ista Weyr made their way into his thoughts, T'men reminded himself that those experiences were now a part of the history that made him who he was this day. He could not possibly hold the same level of appreciation for his current circumstances without having experienced so much less.

As he exited the long tunnel into the main caverns, T'men couldn't help but feel the excitement of the people of the Weyr. The general flow of traffic was through the kitchen and into the tunnel leading through the mountain to the only ground entrance to Benden Weyr. Most arms were loaded with goods to be traded with the people of the caravan. No one returning was carrying anything, so T'men deduced that the caravan had not yet arrived, but the quickness with which each moved told him that they would be here very soon. He fell into the procession, offering to help the woman in front with the beautiful yarn work that kept trying to escape her arms. When, in her excitement, she refused, he merely followed and caught up the ends that nearly dragged on the floor.

T'men was surprised into a halt when they emerged into the massive cavern used for loading and unloading; most of Benden's population seemed to be present. As he was jostled out of the way, he was reminded of the feelings of a Gather Day. When one of the yarn scarves was tugged from his hand, he turned his attention back to the woman he had been following. She walked to one of the many tables set up along the wall between the two entrances to the inside of the Weyr.

The woman, no taller than T'men's shoulders, dropped her load on an empty table. "Thank you," she turned to her unknown helper. "Oh!" she blushed at the sight of T'men and his shoulder knots. "Thank you, Wingleader . . .!" She left her statement open as she affected a slight curtsy.

T'men was stunned by her lovely smile. How could he not have noticed her before this day? He offered a slight bow; anymore would be inadvisable in such a crowded space. "T'men, my lady. It is my pleasure . . ."

She curtsied again, turning a lovely shade of dark pink, at least to T'men's eyes. "Sarleen, Wingleader T'men."

Finding himself at an uncharacteristic loss of words, T'men studied the face of this woman before him. Her eyes were a bright green, but sadness permeated them. She bore laugh lines, but there was a slight puffiness beneath her eyes. Her cheeks were full, not plump, and smooth as if pampered, but powdered as if hiding some imperfection. Her teeth were white and straight and almost too large for her face. Her neck was covered by a lightweight scarf; a bruise peeked over the top. T'men reached a finger to move the scarf, but was stopped.

Sarleen placed her hands at the sides of her neck and lowered her head. As she readjusted her scarf, and tried to turn away, T'men stopped her with a gentle hand on an elbow. His non-judgmental, questioning, but caring blue eyes were almost her undoing. "Long story" was all she said.

A loud whistle erupted from the far end of the cavern. The excitement level soared to new heights. "There here!"

Sarleen twisted away from T'men and didn't look again at his face. "If you will excuse me, Wingleader T'men, I need to get these organized."

"Of course. May I assist?"

"You already have, Wingleader. Thank you."

Her manner was that of a Lady Holder, thought T'men, and he had just been released from her audience. He flashed his most gracious harper smile. "Perhaps we could meet at dinner?" He wanted to know who this lovely lady might be.

"Perhaps." Sarleen smiled graciously but noncommittally, and returned to straightening her wares.

T'men bowed slightly and took his leave. As he walked along the tables, he marveled at the items on display; quilts, afghans, weavings, rugs, clothing, yarns and threads, leather belts and accessories, carvings in leather, bone and wood of all subjects and sizes, candles, scented sands, and various other crafty items. The larger surprise was the people standing behind the tables, ready to talk about their projects; weyrfolk of all stations, and dragonriders as well. It seemed everyone in the weyr had something to offer the traders just entering the cavern. Even the slowest-minded drudge displayed his braided leather lanyards with obvious and well deserved pride.

T'men was amazed at the industriousness of the people of Benden Weyr. The people of Ista Weyr had no such drive. Once again, T'men thanked the first egg and Sebell for his transfer to Benden Weyr.

"Tarlamen?" A loud voice boomed across the cavern.

T'men turned to see who owned that familiar, but long unheard voice. The caravan had been pulled along the straighter wall on the northern side of the cavern. Beasts were being unhitched and moved to the large hollow just south of the train, where dried grasses and troughs of water had been set out for them. The tall dragonrider walked toward the burly caravaner who waved an arm over his head. As he drew closer, he recognized the man from his time at Harper Hall. "Bartolomer?" he bellowed from half-way across the cavern.

The head caravaner slapped the man on the shoulder, apparently releasing him to meet up with his friend. The two men, one tall and slender and one shorter and much bulkier, approached each other like two stallions in a pen with one mare in deep heat. They bumped chests (T'men had to bend slightly), smacked each other on the back once, and separated to an arm's length apart, both grinning.

"Look at you!" Bartolomer glared as if in disbelief. "A dragonrider? I thought those harpers were pulling my leg!"

T'men could only laugh. "You look well, my friend." He extended a hand for a more formal greeting.

The burly man took his offered hand and with the other, flicked the knots on T'men's shoulder. "And a bronze rider, no less. Now, why doesn't that surprise me?"

"It's T'men now, rider of bronze Reyuth." T'men spoke with barely concealed pride. "I hope you'll have time to meet him."

"How are Leanna and the baby, what's her name?" He regretted his question immediately. He saw the sadness flash over his old friend's face.

T'men smiled again. "They are both well, so I am informed. Teanna is now mated to a fine young journeyman harper who is currently posted at Balen Hold, and they have a baby of their own now."

"And Leanna?"

"She wasn't as thrilled with Reyuth as I was and still am. She stayed at Fort Hold and has a new family. Three more children!"

The burly man put a hand on the dragonriders shoulder. "I'm so sorry, T'men. I thought . . ."

"It was for the best. She wasn't exactly thrilled with the prospect of travelling with a harper, either."

The head caravaner interrupted. "Is this your harper friend, Bartolomer?"

"Yes, sir!" He let go of T'men and made introductions with pride. "Cragorlan, this is Bronze Rider T'men, once an apprentice at Harper Hall. T'men, this is Cragorlan, leader and master trader of the best trading caravan on the whole eastern half of the northern continent."

Cragorlan shook his head at Bartolomer, but extended a hand to T'men. "It's an honor, Wingleader T'men."

"Wingleader!" Bartolomer was abashed. "Why didn't you tell me, you trickster?"

T'men laughed, but otherwise ignored his friend. "Likewise, Master Cragorlan."

"We have business, Wingleader." The leader looked sideways at Bartolomer.

"I'll just go study that knot identification book the Printer Hall gave us." Bartolomer bowed and turned to leave.

Cragorlan led the way down the line of carts and wagons. They had to stop frequently to make way for people unloading the many goods ordered for weyr use. "Bartolomer is a good hand, but he still has a little trouble with authority and rank issues."

"One of the many reasons he and I got along so well."

The leader stopped and looked at the rider, a smirk on his face. "You seem to be adjusting better than Bartolomer."

T'men chuckled. "I had little choice." He tapped his shoulder knots.

"I've heard that dragons can change a man."

"Only for the better."

Cragorlan nodded. "We would have been here yesterday, but were delayed by quite an uproar in Keroon Harbor."

"Oh?"

"It seems that a highly valued woman was abducted by four drunken bronze dragonriders."

"Abducted?" A slight smile appeared on the dragonriders otherwise concerned face.

"Yes, and quite a few good men were seriously injured by those dragonriders!" The leader placed a slight emphasis on the word 'good'.

"I suppose those drunken riders also doused those good men with low quality ale and wine?"

"Exactly! Those riders tried to make their abduction look like something else entirely!"

"Imagine that!"

"The good Lord Holder Kashman has even posted a reward for her return." Again, a slight emphasis on the word 'good'. "And he paid the Printer Hall to run off thousands of these." He pulled a folded piece of paper from a pocket inside his vest and handed it to T'men. "You wouldn't by any chance know where a woman called Mara might be?"

T'men glanced at the paper; it was a copy of the flyer G'raden had rushed to him earlier. "Who drew this?" Cragorlan shrugged. "And who are these ugly beasts?"

Cragorlan pointed to the third snarling man at the bottom of the paper. "I'm not positive, but this looks just a bit like you." He grinned at the nearly laughing dragonrider.

"I know a woman named Mara, but this isn't her!" They both laughed. "And highly valued? Here, she is!" T'men allowed a bit of his anger to surface. "And not for how many quarter-marks she can earn on the floor of a rotting stable!"

"I thought as much." Cragorlan nodded knowingly and spoke with barely disguised disgust. "I met the father. He couldn't even look at my face, let alone my eyes."

"I'll introduce you, if you have the time." T'men hoped his assessment of this man was accurate, but he knew that his judgment was seldom wrong.

"After your books are unloaded." They had stopped at a wagon still covered by a well oiled tarp. Cragorlan signaled two of his helpers, who, with a flourish, snapped the tarp over to the other side of the wagon.

T'men's eyes went wide and he clapped his hands together. "Oh, this is like a birthing day celebration when I was young!" He ran a caressing hand on the boxes as he walked to the rear of the wagon. The back wall had been removed to make unloading easier. "Where's the lumber?"

Cragorlan smiled and turned to the next wagon. As he did so, the helpers snapped the cover off to reveal a full cartload of precisely cut boards in two lengths and a barrel of nails.

"Oh, by the first egg!" T'men was beside himself with glee. "I never expected this much!"

The caravan leader loved moments like this. "Masterprinter Tagetarl says he sent at least one copy of each and every book his hall has printed. And one whole box is devoted to the 'Charter of Pern'. And . . ." He waited for T'men to face him for the rest. "I've been told that you will be getting regular deliveries in the future."

Wingleader T'men could only laugh as tears of joy spilled down his cheeks. He reached out to shake the caravaners hand, but was knocked off balance by several slaps on the back. Weyrleader F'lar caught him by a shoulder and spun him around, not normally an easy feat. "So, where do you want all of this, Wingleader?"

Weyrwoman Lessa appeared at F'lar's side. "In the library, of course!" She took T'men by the arm, not at all bothered by his tears. "Do you want the books or the lumber unloaded first?" She pulled him to the side of the lumber wagon. "We'll just stand here. You supervise, I'll watch."

As Lessa turned his back to the wagon, T'men gasped in surprise. Dragonriders and weyrfolk alike all lined up to help unload his two wagons. He took a deep, calming breath, and was barely able to manage a coherent voice. "Uhhh, the lumber first."

The line of people moved to the back of the wagon. Two riders began pulling boards off the wagon and helped each person balance however many boards they could handle. The first rider to pass T'men and Lessa, carrying six of the longer boards, stopped briefly. "Where in the library?"

"Uhh, the far wall." T'men laughed at himself, harper trained, for not being able to overcome the shock he was feeling. He looked down at Lessa and shook his head. "All this help!"

Lessa smiled cheerfully up at T'men. "Welcome, again, to Benden Weyr."

* * *

Wingleader F'nor led B'rand, young Tagamarth, and Mara a few dragonlengths away from the entrance to the weyrling barracks. He turned suddenly and crouched, arms and legs spread wide, and glared at Mara.

Mara stopped and gawked. When F'nor motioned her forward with his hands, she stood firm and crossed her arms. "What?"

"Come at me."

"Why?"

"We're testing your self defense abilities, remember?" F'nor spoke as if to an idiot.

"Then, why should I come at you? Or, did I misunderstand the meaning of 'self defense'?"

F'nor jumped straight up, bringing his legs back together beneath him. He rolled his head around on his neck and finally said, "Right." When B'rand chuckled, F'nor glared at him, successfully stopping the noise.

"Besides, there are too many rocks here. Someone might get hurt."

"You afraid of a few bruises, girl?"

"I'm not. But I wouldn't want to be responsible for injuring a wingleader, sir." She turned to face B'rand. "Or a second day weyrling."

"Ha!" B'rand stood as tall as his fourteen turns would allow, but a hint of fear shot threw his eyes at Mara's intense stare.

"Hmmph" said F'nor. "You're right. Wouldn't want to hurt a weyrling." He turned to face the usual sparring area, halfway to the living caverns along the western wall, and then back to B'rand. "You think Tagamarth can make it that far?" He pointed to the spot, cleared of rocks with no ground covering.

"Of course he can." B'rand sounded as if he had been insulted.

F'nor squared off at the young man. "Of course he can, what?"

B'rand rolled his eyes. "Of course he can walk that far. He's a bronze!"

F'nor puffed up as his face turned red. He spoke calmly, but firmly, while clenching his fists. "Look at me. Stand up straight!" When the young man did as ordered, he continued. "You will address me, and any other rider, with rank and name. Do you understand, weyrling?"

"I understand, Wingleader F'nor." He didn't sound too convincing, but maintained eye contact until F'nor nearly growled. He dropped his glare to Tagamarth, who was watching with concern.

"Hmmph" said F'nor. He turned and started walking to the other side of the bowl. "Let's go, then."

As they walked a bit slower than they normally might, allowing Tagamarth to keep up, F'nor slowed to walk next to Mara. "So, who taught you self defense techniques?"

"Who taught me, Wingleader F'nor?"

F'nor backhanded her arm. "You're not a weyrling! Drudges are a step above weyrlings." He winked at her with the eye B'rand couldn't see. "You can call me by my name."

"Yes, sir, um, F'nor."

"So, who taught you?" He sounded impatient.

"I guess I learned mostly from watching the brawls my father liked to watch. And from experience."

"Ha! This should be fun." When B'rand chuckled, F'nor spun around. "I wasn't talking to you, weyrling."

B'rand stopped and stood straight. "No, sir . . . Wingleader F'nor." After F'nor turned back around, he added with great derision, "Sir!"

F'nor took a deep breath as he clenched his fists tight and his eyes shut, but kept walking. They walked in silence until they reached the practice area. F'nor turned again toward B'rand and pointed to a particular spot at the edge of the clearing. "Tagamarth can take a nap there."

B'rand led his dragon to a spot close to the one pointed out. "Lay down" he ordered. When Tagamarth did as requested, he patted his head condescendingly. "Good boy." He took his time turning back to face the wingleader.

F'nor's cheeks twitched at the way the boy addressed his dragon, but he ignored it for now. "All right," he pointed toward the middle of the clearing. "Mara, out there." When she was in place, he turned to B'rand. "Weyrling, attack her." When the boy sneered, he bellowed. "Now!"

The boy walked slowly toward the woman and threw a lazy right-handed punch at her face. Mara easily moved aside to avoid his fist.

"Again" ordered F'nor.

B'rand threw a more serious punch with his left hand. Mara dipped her head to the right and pushed his elbow with her right hand to throw him off balance.

Tagamarth bellowed as he rose to an attack stance.

Mara opened her arms and faced the small, but still dangerous bronze. "It's all right, Tagamarth. We're just practicing."

B'rand grabbed her right arm and tugged without much effect. "I didn't give you permission to speak to my dragon" he hissed at her.

F'nor took the boys arm and spun him neatly around. "She doesn't need your permission to do anything, weyrling, even to speak to or touch your dragon, understood?" The fear in the boy's whole body surprised the seasoned rider, but he maintained his dominant glare.

"Yes, sir, Wingleader F'nor." The boy was totally submissive.

F'nor turned the boy back around and loosened his grip.

Mara had not moved from her open stance facing the bronze dragonet. "We're just practicing, Tagamarth. And, I promise you, I will not hurt your rider, all right?" Without speaking aloud, she continued talking to the young dragon. _Yes, dear, I can see that he's afraid. But we won't hurt him. He still has a lot to learn, and this practice will help him lose that fear, all right?_

B'rand bristled when he realized his dragon was speaking to the drudge, but F'nor renewed his grip and spoke into his ear. "Watch, and learn, boy!"

Tagamarth moved forward, his eyes losing some of their orange streaks. He reached out his muzzle to touch Mara's outstretched hand.

Mara turned her hand allowing the little bronze to sniff and then lick her palm. She slowly moved her other hand to his muzzle and carefully rubbed between his eyes. "It's all right, dear. No one will hurt your rider, I promise."

B'rand fought to get away from F'nor. "What's she doing?"

F'nor held him by both arms and again spoke into his ear. "She's calming him down. And know this, boy," he waited until the boy calmed down enough to listen "no one at Benden Weyr will ever willingly hurt you. Is that understood?"

The boy turned wide, fear-filled eyes and a spiteful grimace to F'nor. "Yes, sir."

F'nor shook him slightly. "Try again, weyrling."

"Understood, Wingleader F'nor."

"Good. Now watch. And learn."

Mara was leading the dragonet back to the soft ground covering at the edge of the practice area. "I know, you're tired! You just lay down and take a nap, Tagamarth. Doesn't the sun feel good?" She turned him back to face the clearing. "Lay your head down this way, so you can see what's happening." When he lay down and stretched his neck toward B'rand, she patted the top of his head and then rubbed his neck. "Yes, dear one, he's fine. You sleep now, all right?"

F'nor smiled as the little ones swirling eyes slowed and changed to nearly all blue, one eyelid at a time closing until all three were in place and no longer trying futilely to reopen.

* * *

Well, I wanted to get to the end of this day, but . . . If I had this many words in real life, I might have more friends. Or maybe less! Ah, well. Hope you enjoy it!


	17. Benden Weyr Library

Disclaimer: I'm just playing. I make no money from Anne and Todd McCaffrey's Pern.

My apologies for this taking so long – Reality has been grabbing at my beautiful dragon's tail, trying to keep us from flying as freely as we would like.

* * *

BENDEN WEYR

Tagamarth's fearful bellow when he thought B'rand was being attacked drew the attention of several people, G'raden, G'regg and B'nor among them.

Mara continued rubbing Tagamarth's neck for several minutes after he fell asleep, and finally walked back into the sparring area. She nodded appreciatively at F'nor, somewhat surprised at the way he spoke up for her, and then smiled at the boy still bristling in F'nor's grasp. "Now, we can practice."

F'nor let loose of the boy and grinned wickedly at Mara. "Get her, weyrling."

B'rand seethed fury as he ran at the big woman. Mara moved a foot back to brace herself and shook her head. She let out a slight grunt as the boy slammed a shoulder into her gut, but didn't lose any ground. She took him by the arms and pushed him away. He was a wiry lad, far too thin for his fairly tall frame, which still only reached her shoulders. He might one day be nearly as tall as Mara, but his bones were far less substantial.

B'rand charged her again, this time wrapping his fairly small hands part way around her neck. Mara's chin dropped nearly to her chest. She caught him by the wrists, dug her fingers in between the tendons on the underside and lifted his arms out above his head. When he began kicking at her, she lifted a knee gently into his gut. Chuckles from the small audience caused the boy to howl with fury.

F'nor stepped forward and grabbed the boy around his chest. When Mara released his wrists, he began swinging wildly at her. F'nor pulled him back, grinning. "Had enough . . . girl?"

Mara grinned back at the brown rider. "I thought you were going to test me."

The wingleader's brows shot up as he sized her up quickly. His head twitched to one side and back to center. "The boy needs to work off a little more energy. Maybe later."

As Mara grinned even wider, a deep bass voice came from the crowd. "I'll work with the weyrling." A tenor voice chimed in. "I'll help."

B'rand stopped fighting F'nor as they turned toward G'raden and B'nor. Eyebrows still high on his forehead, one corner of F'nor's mouth raised in a brief half smile as he pushed the boy toward the bronze riders. "Thanks." He did not sound sincere.

G'raden caught the boy and led him to the other side of the practice area. "Don't you know it's not polite to hit a lady?"

"That's no lady!" Scorn blasted from B'rand's scowling face.

The big rider spun the boy to face him, grabbing his other arm, and bent down till their faces were barely a hand width apart. "That's my lady! If you get angry at her, you can hit me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." The boy shook with fear as he answered.

"Good." G'raden stood and let go of B'rand. "Hit me, then."

B'rand glared defiantly at the rider, feeling a bit victorious for not being ordered to use his rank and name. "I have no reason to hit you."

"Fine." G'raden nodded and turned to walk away. "I'll just go pet Tagamarth for a while."

B'rand grabbed the rider's wrist and pulled. He was only slightly unnerved when the huge man allowed himself to be turned back. "No one touches my dragon without my permission!"

"Stop me, boy." G'raden easily broke free of the boy's grip and turned back toward the sleeping bronze.

The skinny boy scrambled to get between the huge rider and his dragon. When G'raden kept moving, the boy began punching.

G'raden stopped and let the boy hit him. "Good. Harder." All the boy's anger barely affected the heavily muscled bronze rider. "Let it all out, boy." He turned his head to his friend, B'nor, who shook his head with concern. G'raden nodded agreement; this was not the anger of one day, caused by one event.

B'rand's energy faded quickly, but not his anger. G'raden caught him by one arm. "Come here, boy." He pulled the now panicky boy's back in close and wrapped his arms around him.

B'rand struggled to get free, clawing at the big arms across his chest and mid section. "Let me go!"

G'raden held tight and spread his big hands; he needed to know what had this boy so terrified.

B'nor, having seen his long-time friend do this before, shifted his gaze to the big man's face. He was the only one who witnessed the shock, horror, and fear that flashed across G'raden's face. B'nor moved in and took the boy by the wrists. "Calm down, boy. We only want to help you."

The two bronze riders held the boy until he stopped fighting. B'nor freed his arms, and they nearly flopped to the young man's side; he was exhausted.

"You should nap with Tagamarth" said B'nor. He looked at G'raden and said "You should nap too, little brother!"

G'raden gave his 'brother' a little growl and a half smile, before moving off the practice area.

B'nor led the drained weyrling to his dragon and eased him down to the ground, where he promptly curled into a ball with his back resting against Tagamarth. The rider grinned as the dragonet's lithe tail snaked up and over the boy's legs.

B'nor turned back to his 'little brother' and was pleased to see him smiling. When G'raden winced, B'nor turned to see what was causing that pained expression and was surprised to see Wingleader F'nor flying over Mara to land with a thud on his back.

Mara knelt down to check on F'nor. "Are you all right?"

F'nor opened his eyes to see the upside down face of . . . that girl! As soon as he was able to take a full breath, he snarled "I'm fine."

The big woman stood, moved to the wingleader's side, and offered him her hand. He took it, grudgingly, and let her help him to stand. "So," she grinned "do I pass your test, Wingleader F'nor?"

F'nor scowled fiercely. Oh, how he hated to admit that he might possibly, but not likely, be getting a little too old for this kind of activity. While she had done all right in self-defense, he was pretty sure that he could still teach her something about sparring, and absolutely certain that he could teach her about the use of weapons, but not this day.

He looked around at the quickly disappearing grins of the small audience and made a decision. "G'raden!" The man seemed far too prideful. "Your turn!"

G'raden's arms quickly dropped from across his chest. His hands folded one over the other as his elbows straightened. He shook his head slowly with the whites showing all around his brown irises. "No, sir!"

F'nor scowled at him; was he afraid of hurting his little girl friend? Then he noticed the placement of the bronze rider's hands. Yup, he was afraid all right. His grinning friend, though, seemed anxious for the challenge. "G'regg!"

"Yes, sir!" He was moving into the area as he nearly bellowed. He grinned hungrily at Mara as he strode confidently forward.

F'nor moved out of the way quickly and was somewhat tickled to see the girl showing a bit of fear, even as she grinned.

Mara crouched slightly as she backed away. She pointed a finger at the big bronze rider. "I've warned you, G'regg! Don't touch me!"

He never slowed down. He faked a grab with one hand and then grabbed her wrist with the other hand. He pulled her hard, causing her to spin into his arms, and held her tight. He whispered into her ear. "Gotcha ya! Now whatcha gonna do, huh?"

"Do you notice where my hand is?" Mara grinned back at him and spoke just loud enough for him alone to hear.

G'regg squeezed the hand he held tightly in front of her. When she raised her other shoulder slightly, his grin faded; the knife edge of her other hand was just inside his thigh.

"Do you have a good imagination, G'regg?" Mara was blushing.

"Uh, huh."

"Imagine that I turn that hand, grab tightly," he began to grin, until she raised her shoulder again "and jerk!"

G'regg's hips shot back as he sucked in a quick breath through tightly clenched teeth. Seeing her laugh made him smile as he continued holding her. He spoke into her ear again. "You win this one." He ran his hands to the side of her waist and kissed her cheek before pushing away. Then he announced to F'nor in all seriousness. "She can take care of herself!"

"What happened?" F'nor was shocked.

"She won!" G'regg spoke loud and clear for all to hear. He joined his 'brothers' and stood with arms crossed defiantly.

"All I saw was talking!" F'nor was beginning to think he had been played for a fool.

"This is just practice, right?" When F'nor nodded, G'regg continued. "Her words convinced me that she knows how to handle herself."

Mara noticed that he stood with his legs apart, trying to hide the content of her words. She nearly laughed when she noticed his knees flex just a bit, repeatedly.

F'nor couldn't believe what he'd just seen. He looked from 'the girl' to Wingleader G'regg and back again, wondering when they had the time to set up this farce. Then he noticed Wingleader T'men approaching with two other men not of this weyr.

"T'men!" F'nor smiled conspiratorially. "You're just on time to help us test her self defense skills."

T'men's eyes went wide. He and both of his guests had witnessed the last encounter and had been in a far better position to see where Mara's other hand had landed. It didn't take long to decide that diversion would be the best tactic at this point.

"The train is unloaded and lunch is being served!" He introduced Cragorlan and Bartolomer to F'nor and Mara, and all five turned to meet the 'three brothers'.

As the two groups converged, Bartolomer looked at the flyer again. As T'men introduced Cragorlan to Wingleaders G'regg and B'nor and Bronze Rider G'raden, Bartolomer began laughing uncontrollably. He handed the flyer back to his leader, who compared the four poorly done drawings at the bottom to the three riders in front of him and T'men.

Shaking his head, Cragorlan handed the flyer to Mara with a slight bow. "Have you seen this, my lady?"

Mara blushed, still not accustomed to the word 'lady' directed at her. Her face began to droop as she read about how four dragonriders had 'abducted' her from the Keroon Harbor Gather Day Celebration.

She turned angry and fearful eyes to the caravan leader. "These are lies! These riders never hurt me! And I can't believe that they hurt anyone else."

G'raden's head bowed as G'regg and B'nor both cleared their throats. Cragorlan turned to T'men for confirmation.

"We were all a bit . . . miffed . . . when we witnessed their form of celebration." T'men spoke without any sign of apology. "But every single one of those 'good men' managed to run out of that beast hold under their own power."

The caravaners laughed as T'men directed them back to the dining area. Mara wound up between the two visitors, each in turn flooding her with questions about Gather Day, Benden Weyr and the 'practice session' they had partially witnessed. T'men followed, talking to F'nor, and G'raden followed them, concerned for many reasons now. G'regg and B'nor carefully carried Tagamarth and B'rand back to the weyrling barracks to finish their nap without 'baking the boy' in the summer sun.

Mid-day meal was an extremely informal affair. Most people, traders included, took what food they could carry back to the unloading cavern to discuss the many articles being offered for trade. Those sitting in the dining hall had already completed their trading, and most were in very good spirits.

The caravan master, Cragorlan, and his immediate family did sit down to eat. T'men and the Weyr Harper joined them to trade news. Travelers quite often learned valuable tidbits of information on their journeys and may have missed other news.

Mara sat with the 'three brothers', much to her dismay. G'regg and B'nor teased her mercilessly about her self-defense tactics. She reminded them that not only had she raised two brothers, but had worked in an area where even her size and strength was not always enough to dissuade some drunks. G'raden sat quietly, distractedly observing all that was going on in the dining hall.

As the hall emptied, Cragorlan made his farewells, first to the weyrleaders with profound thanks, then to the harpers and finally to Mara and her 'abductors'.

Mara politely refused his offer to take a message to her 'family' in Keroon.

Cragorlan smiled with amusement as he bowed. "As you wish, my lady."

As the last of the travelers left the hall, Mara and the riders cleared their table. B'nor took all the dishes to the kitchen as T'men walked around the table.

"My lady?" T'men offered his arm to Mara.

Mara looked at his proffered arm and then his face, wondering if he was joking. "I'm as much a lady as you are, Wingleader."

T'men pursed his lips and then smiled. "You are as much a lady as I am a harper. Shall we adjourn to the library, my lady?"

Mara blushed, knowing the truth of the second half of his statement; according to the Masterharper of Pern, T'men was indeed a harper, even if he didn't wear harper knots. He was a secret harper, so was she a secret lady? Or did he mean that his being a harper just wasn't obvious to most people? She chose the second option and laid her hand on his arm. "As you wish, my harper."

The tall, handsome dragonrider/harper gently adjusted her hand, effectively teaching her how a true lady would be taught to take a man's arm, and turned back to the three riders. "If you will excuse us, riders."

Something in T'men's face caused Mara to turn back as well. G'raden was still seated, looking haggard. G'regg and B'nor stood on either side of him. "G'raden, are you all right?"

With some effort, G'raden worked up a smile. "I'm just tired." He lifted an arm to shoo her away. "You go learn something, My Lady."

His friends, as if to confirm his report and demand, bowed to Mara with comic formality, causing her to shake her head at the trio.

On their long walk to the library, T'men began filling Mara in on history relevant to her assignment at Ista Weyr. He told her about Lessa bringing the Oldtimers forward four hundred years, about how they had trouble fitting into modern Pern society, how G'dened and Cosira became weyrleaders, and the recent decline of morale he had witnessed at Ista Weyr. He also told her of his suspicions, none confirmed due to his snubbing at the Weyr, and how Cosira had changed, become bitter, and was possibly under someone else's influence. G'dened was not himself, possibly due to his age, but not likely. The rider's were being manipulated, likely by Cosira, and used for some plan that T'men had never been able to determine.

The library was teaming with people; riders, weyrfolk, and children. All had helped to assemble the book shelves that now lined one long wall. Two long tables had been moved in from the dining hall along with enough chairs to encircle each. Several smaller tables were also present with a hodge-podge of different styles of chairs at each.

T'men was overjoyed. Mara watched the normally tightly controlled man as he personally thanked each and every person who had helped. He shook hands, hugged quite a few and spun some of the smaller children in his excitement. No harper smile this day, Mara noticed; this must be the real man coming through. His entire face and even his body smiled openly, unabashedly and without reservation.

Several men offered to help rearrange the shelving when he was ready, and a couple of women informed him that the wood had been oiled 'real good', so he shouldn't do any sweeping too soon. No one had opened the boxes of books, knowing that T'men would want to move shelves first.

One of the older weyrmen pulled T'men over to one of the bookshelves. He pointed out the rows of little holes that had been drilled halfway through each side board. Those holes had caused quite a bit of confusion until one of the children opened the barrel of nails and found a sack of knuckle long dowels and a piece of paper titled 'Instructions'. T'men was shown how the little dowels could be moved up or down in the long rows of holes to change the height of each shelf. The shelves even had partial holes drilled on their undersides to keep them from sliding on the dowels.

T'men graciously accepted instructions from this man who he had never seen before. He seemed so excited to be able to provide useful information to a bronze rider. T'men commented on how level the shelves appeared to be and the man's chest puffed out a bit. All they had to do, he explained, was count the holes between shelves. T'men was assured that this man would be more than willing to help when it came time to move the shelves up and down. The man left the library looking quite proud of himself. T'men hoped to see him and others like him much more often once this room was organized.

As the room emptied of people, T'men gravitated to the far end where all the boxes of books had been stacked. He reverently caressed the top most boxes as the silence suddenly struck him, causing him to stagger just a bit.

Mara carried over a small table and then two chairs and 'forced' him to sit down. She found a pitcher of water and one of fruit juice and a couple of mugs that had been left near the door and poured them each a mug of juice.

As Mara set a mug before T'men, he looked at her with unmasked concern. When she sat across from him, he shook his head. "I really dislike the thought of you being at Ista Weyr."

Mara smiled. "Lessa herself told me that I'm welcome to come back here!"

T'men recovered some of his harper control as he drank the still well-chilled juice. He detached his shoulder knots and laid them on the table between them. "Well then, let's start with rank knots."

He explained how each hold, hall and weyr had their own color combinations and how those colors were used in the shoulder knots. He explained how the complexity of the knots and the number of cords denoted a person's rank. And he described in detail the color combinations used by the various holds, halls and weyrs that she might come into contact with at Ista. She reminded him that she could always ask him, she pointed to her temple, if she saw a combination she didn't recognize.

"You'll be acting the part of a simple drudge, so I think we can wait on discussing the 'social graces'."

Mara bowed her head humbly and stared wide-eyed at the table. "Yes, sir." She looked up to see T'men's chest convulsing in silent laughter.

"All right, then, drudge." T'men pushed himself up from the table and looked down at the big smiling woman. "Let's get some books unboxed" his smile turned apologetic "and we can work on telling half-truths."

"Half-truths? Half lies?"

"Half-truths, half hidden truths."

They moved the two long tables perpendicular to the short wall containing the boxes of books as T'men explained that he would play the role of an interrogator questioning her as a drudge.

"Do you hear dragons?" he began.

Mara rolled her eyes and grinned like an excited child. "When they talk to me."

"Dragons talk to you?" T'men played the suspicion like a seasoned prosecutor.

"Reyuth talks to me some times." She bounced with excitement.

"Do any other dragons talk to you?"

Mara's smile faded as her lips tweaked to one side while her eyes searched the ground to the other side. She finally answered with a grin, "Sometimes."

T'men smiled at her act. "How do you do that?"

"What?"

Now he laughed. "Play the simple, innocent, dim-wit."

"Oh." Her act fell away. "In Keroon, dock workers were expected to be dim-wits. Answering too fast, or asking questions could bring unwanted attention. And since I dressed like a man . . ."

"Ahh, I see. But you're not talking like a man now."

She stood up tall, squaring her shoulders, and laughed when T'men actually blushed. "I'm not a man! So this is a lot easier, and more fun."

"Fun?" He shook his head and remembered his first little 'assignment', and how much it had felt like playing a game.

Getting back into his character, he slapped a hand down on the table. "All right, then" he growled. "Get those boxes opened and start stacking the books on these tables." When Mara donned her silly, excited grin, he roared. "Now!"

As they opened the wooden boxes, T'men kept up the questioning, sometimes getting uncomfortably ugly with accusations. Mara dealt well with all of it, acting the frightened dim-wit and even breaking down into tears when appropriate, and never revealing the secrets he was trying to uncover.

Between sessions of intense questioning, T'men would describe some of the people she might be seeing at Ista. When they found one whole box full of paper and carbon sticks, he sat down and began drawing some of the more important faces she should be able to recognize. Mara was amazed at his drawing skills, even as T'men downplayed his drawings as not wholly acceptable renditions.

By the end of the afternoon, both T'men and Mara were physically and emotionally drained. The books were all stacked neatly with backs visible. The boxes had all been carefully disassembled and the wooden slats stacked neatly against the wall. Even the oiled pieces of cloth which had wrapped each book were stacked on one end of the table.

Mara asked T'men what he would do with the oiled cloths. They were all remnants or scraps, some imperfect. Most were stamped or stenciled with flowers, fire-lizards and dragons in bright and sometimes garish colors.

T'men had seen how she had smoothed each scrap onto the stacks. She had no idea what she might do with them once they were cleaned, but T'men gave them to her and was rewarded with a truly appreciative hug. He promised himself that he would introduce her to the quilters and seamstresses in the weyr as soon as she returned.

A young boy barged into the library to announce that the evening meal would be starting soon, and disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.

On the long walk back to the dining hall, T'men ran through his mental list of subjects he had hoped to cover. With resolute determination, he avoided thinking about possible complications; there simply wasn't enough time to cover all possibilities. By the time they reached their destination, he had convinced himself that Mara was smart enough to figure out anything he might have missed and would do the Harper Hall proud.

Mara noticed the concern in T'men's blue eyes and how tightly he controlled his 'harper smile', and did her very best to dispel that concern. She knew there might be some danger involved in this adventure, but was determined to do what she could to help the Masterharper of Pern.

The dining cavern was already humming with residual excitement from the caravans visit. Mara joined the three bronze riders she had come to think of as friends (except for G'raden, of course, who was far more than just a friend). G'regg and B'nor teased her as G'raden watched, apparently quite distracted.

T'men went to the weyrleader's raised table to greet Masterharper Sebell and another Master Harper. After a very short discussion, he returned to join Mara and the three riders.

Mara pretty much dominated the conversation, regaling the others with a list of all the books she had seen in the new library. T'men had to remind her repeatedly to eat; while her mouth was full, he would take over listing some of the books that had been delivered. Eventually, Mara started talking about the little pieces of fabric that had wrapped each book. T'men, after reminding her yet again to eat, talked about the various processes that might have been used to create the designs on those bits of fabric.

G'regg and B'nor seemed to be truly fascinated by the fabric printing processes, which amused Mara, though she fought to keep from teasing either of them – maybe at a less public time.

G'raden was quiet during the meal, and so distracted that Mara had to repeat herself several times when trying to get him involved in the conversation. She finally leaned over to G'regg and asked him quietly what was wrong. G'regg shrugged and donned an innocent façade before telling her simply that he would be fine. Before she could question him on what he obviously knew, T'men dropped both palms on the table.

"Well, Lady Mara." There was that harper smile again. "We have one more appointment this day." He stood and addressed B'nor. "Would you mind terribly taking care of our dishes?" When B'nor, dumbfounded by the politeness, nodded, T'men thanked him and then addressed all three riders. "If you will excuse us, Gentle Men."

* * *

Well, had a little trouble with the very long second half of this chapter, so I cut it up. Don't like doing that, but I kinda doubt you'd want to wait another week or two for a much longer chapter.


	18. Hello, Master Mekelroy

Disclaimer: I'm just playing and don't get paid for it.

* * *

Mara snatched a pair of savory rolls before T'men directed her to the main exit of the dining hall. She took a big bite and then realized she was about to be introduced to yet another new person. As she chewed quickly, she noticed that this man in harper blue also wore the shoulder knots of a Master. She worked frantically to finish the partial roll that was suddenly quite dry in her mouth, and managed to swallow it down just as they approached Sebell and the other Master.

T'men, grinning at her self-induced embarrassment, introduced her to Master Harper Mekelroy before they all, Sebell, Lessa, F'lar and F'nor included, walked to the council chambers.

Masterharper Sebell dominated the conversation on the way to the chambers; he commented on the weather, comparing it to Fort Hold's summer heat, and basically made sure no one had a chance to discuss anything else.

Mara noticed Sebell's distraction and studied Master Harper Mekelroy with sideways glances. She was impressed with his commanding stature, even though he stood nearly a full head shorter than she and barely came to the shoulders of the other two harpers. He wasn't short by any means, except in the presence of so many quite tall people. He was quiet and extremely formal, even as he studied her closely while they walked. Mara found him a bit disconcerting, but reasoned that she had only just met the man, so refused to allow her discomfort to take up residence.

Mekelroy, having observed Mara's demeanor in the dining hall, was far from convinced that this woman could be of any assistance at Ista Weyr. But, he too, decided not to judge this wherry by its hide.

In the council chamber, Lessa took her seat at the near end of the long table and began setting up finely crafted wine glasses. F'lar took the seat to her immediate left and started pouring the wine. Sebell took the next seat and Mekelroy sat two chairs further down the table. Mara was directed to sit just right of Lessa, followed by T'men and F'nor, also two chairs further down.

Lessa passed glasses of wine to each of the five men and took one for herself as Mara filled the last wine glass with water.

"You don't drink wine?" Mekelroy asked Mara.

"No sir, I don't."

"Why?"

Mara shrugged. "I don't like wine."

"Why?"

She shrugged again. "Last time I was forced to drink wine," she smiled apologetically at Lessa "I didn't . . . hold it for very long." She made a sweeping motion from her belly to her mouth and over the table.

"Had you eaten?"

"No sir."

"I'd like you to assume your drudge character now. Don't break that character until I tell you to, understood?"

Mara had already slouched a bit. She turned wide, darting eyes to the Master Harper, dropped her eyes quickly, and said meekly, "Yes sir."

"Take a sip of T'men's wine."

Mara turned frightened eyes to him and almost got a word out.

Mekelroy bellowed. "Now!"

Mara sheepishly took T'men's glass, put it to her lips, and took a sip. Her entire body seemed to scrunch as she swallowed.

"Did you actually take a sip?" The Master seemed surprised.

"Yes sir." Mara stayed in character.

"Big mistake! Look at me." When Mara looked at him, he continued. "If you are ever forced or ordered to drink or eat anything you don't want, for whatever reason, you should never allow it into your mouth. Spill it, or cough it out right away, but never let it sit in your mouth. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Take another sip, drudge."

Mara dropped her eyes and grimaced as if about to cry. She put the glass to her lips, her jaw lowered a bit, and she spilled a fair amount of wine down her chin onto her tunic. As she sat the glass back down, she scrunched up same as before and swallowed before feebly attempting to wipe the wine from her tunic. She used the back of her hand to wipe her face and wiped that hand on her trousers.

"Did you take a sip this time?"

"No sir."

"It looked like you did."

Mara shook her head while watching the table in front of her.

Mekelroy allowed one eyebrow to rise as he looked at a smiling Masterharper Sebell. "Eat your roll" he demanded of Mara.

Mara pinched a piece off the partial roll she had set on the table before taking her seat. She placed the pinch into her mouth and then began picking up crumbs as she chewed and swallowed.

"Faster!" ordered Mekelroy.

Mara picked up the partial roll and took a big bite. She chewed quickly and finally swallowed hard. F'nor snorted as she reached for her glass of water.

"I didn't tell you to drink water. Finish your roll!"

Mara's shoulders folded even further forward as she stuffed the last two bites into her mouth, using her fingers to push the last bits past her lips. As she chewed, trying to keep the contents of her mouth from spilling out, she began picking crumbs from her stained tunic and trousers. Her eyes darted around the top of the table as F'nor and then F'lar each chuckled. She took a deep, possibly bored breath before swallowing once, sweeping her mouth with her tongue, and swallowing again. She brushed crumbs from the table into her already crumb-filled hand and emptied that hand into her mouth.

"Out of character now. Look at me. As you were finishing the roll, how many people at the table were smiling?"

Without moving her eyes from his, Mara answered. "Five, sir."

Mekelroy squinted slightly. "Who wasn't smiling?"

"You, sir, and me."

"Wingleader F'nor was smiling?"

"Yes sir, behind his hand."

The Master Harper looked at F'nor for confirmation. When he received a nod, he looked back at Mara. "Back in character now." As her eyes dropped to the table, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Eat your other roll. Drink some water if you need to."

Mara did as ordered, taking one bite at a time, picking up crumbs, and sipping water while Mekelroy questioned T'men on her training this day.

T'men detailed the subjects they had covered and the questioning he had conducted.

Mara didn't break her act even when T'men described how she had broken down into tears several times. When her roll was gone and the table and her clothes were crumb free, she began picking her teeth with a fingernail, studying the table the whole time as if it were a truly fascinating book.

Lessa reached over and slapped Mara's hand away from her mouth, causing Mara to pout.

F'lar and F'nor both had to stifle laughter as T'men and Sebell merely nodded and smiled at the convincing act.

Mekelroy asked Sebell to describe how human telepathy was accomplished. They had discussed it earlier, of course, but Mekelroy was hoping to surprise Mara.

Sebell explained that it's quite similar to 'talking' to a fire-lizard, except that one sends words instead of pictures.

Mara perked up at the mention of fire-lizards, but quickly returned to studying the table.

_Ask me about fire-lizards._ Mara immediately recognized Master Harper Mekelroy's voice in her head, not so much by the sound of his mental voice as by the manner of his demand.

Mara's eyes darted around the table as she sucked in and chewed on one corner of her mouth. She finally looked up at Mekelroy and asked sheepishly, "Do you have a fire-lizard, sir?"

"Yes." Mekelroy seemed quite annoyed by her question. As he continued talking with Sebell, he directed another thought to Mara. _Don't stop!_

Mara, grinning, waited for a small break in the harper's conversation. "What color?"

"What?" Mekelroy snapped at her, exuding irritation.

Sebell seemed a bit surprised at her persistence.

"What color is your fire-lizard, sir?" Mara pretended to be only slightly affected by his irritation.

"Gold" he snapped and turned back to Sebell, but didn't get another word out.

"What's her name?" Mara was like a child focused on a new toy.

"Bista! Now hush!"

Mara looked back at the table but kept mouthing the name 'Bista'.

_Ask if you can meet her._

_Lessa doesn't like fire-lizards._

_Ask anyway._

Mara turned wide, innocent, hopeful eyes to Mekelroy and waited again for any slight break in his conversation with Sebell. "Can I see Bista?"

"Mara!" Lessa was shocked at her behavior. _What are you doing?_

Mara looked sheepishly at Lessa and said "Sorry." She looked down at the table as she added a thought. _I'm following his directions. Sorry!_

Lessa frowned at her and then at Mekelroy. "If you bring the lizard here, she'll be distracted for awhile." Might as well surprise the man; she'd never seen him like this and didn't like it.

Mekelroy studied the two women. "Were you two talking?" He pointed at his head. When Lessa only glared, he redirected. "Mara?"

She looked up at him and pretended she hadn't heard his question. "Yes, sir?"

"Were you two talking?" Again he pointed to his head.

Mara looked a little confused. "Yes, sir."

"What was said?"

She took a deep breath as her eyes darted in all directions. Then she looked a little embarrassed. "She said 'Mara!', and then I said 'Sorry'."

"And then?"

Mara looked around again and then began smiling. "She said you could bring Bista here."

Mekelroy's lips tightened slightly. "Out of character." When the big woman looked him squarely in the eyes and began to sit up straight, he asked again. "Were you two speaking telepathically?"

Mara glanced quickly at Lessa, who nodded slightly, and then back to the harper. "Yes, sir, we were."

The Master Harper hadn't seen any signs from Mara that she was using telepathy; it had been Lessa's reaction that aroused his curiosity. He did notice, however, Mara's deference to the Weyrwoman and decided to pursue yet another necessary bit of information about this woman.

"Where do your loyalties lie?"

"Sir?"

"Where do your loyalties lie?"

Mara turned to T'men. "Loyalties?"

Mekelroy answered impatiently. "Who do you serve? Who's orders would you follow without hesitation, no questions asked?"

She answered without hesitation. "Weyrwoman Lessa."

"And then?"

"Sir?"

"Weyrwoman Lessa isn't here. Who, in this room, would you be most likely to follow?"

"Weyrleader F'lar." Again, no hesitation. But she wasn't sure if he was looking for a chain of command or a list of who she trusted. 'Who do you serve' could be interpreted in several ways, in her opinion. A person might 'serve' out of fear or obligation, or common goals and shared ideals. In Keroon, she served her father out of obligation to her mother, and sometimes fear of her father's horrific temper. Here, at Benden Weyr, she served out of a shared devotion to the dragons of Pern, and the protection of the people and lands of Pern. Here, she would gladly serve those who she trusted most to serve the dragons and, by extension, Pern.

"And then?" When her eyes strayed, he nearly bellowed without even raising the volume or pitch of his voice. "Look at me. Who's next?"

"Masterharper Sebell."

"Fourth?"

"Wingleader T'men."

"Fifth?"

"Wingleader F'nor."

"Which leaves me last." His volume had dropped to a nearly inaudible level. He glared at Mara and blasted her with more questions. "Why is the Masterharper third, above T'men?"

Mara took a deep breath.

"Don't think! Answer!"

"Masterharper Sebell has access to more information."

"Why is F'nor fifth?"

"I don't know him very well, yet."

"Why am I last?"

"I don't know you at all, Master Harper. I've never even heard of you before we met this day."

His head cocked just slightly to one side. "Fair enough. And what is your first impression of this Master Harper?" He put an almost humble hand to his chest as his eyes drilled deep into hers.

Mara's jaw nearly dropped. This man was interested in her first impression? No, he was testing her, and the intensity of his tests was not going to ease up. T'men had prepared her for some of this, but T'men was a weyrling, second turn weyrling she corrected, compared to this accomplished weyrleader. A slow smile began to creep across her face. "First impressions can be deceptive, Master Harper. Considering the company you are in . . ." she hesitated, not wanting to alienate this man, but deciding to answer with total honesty, "my impression at this moment is that you are a very, very good actor."

"And?" His glare never wavered as a golden fire-lizard appeared about an arm's length above and behind his head, and then settled quite comfortably on one shoulder without a sound.

Mara didn't allow her eyes to stray from his, but her smile continued to grow slightly. She spoke slowly, trying to use just the right words and hoping that she didn't misuse any of them. "Based on the fact that no one in this room has taken offense at your . . . manner of speaking, I am guessing that you are considered extremely efficient at your profession."

The little gold's head stretched out next to the Master Harper's cheek as her tail wrapped around his neck. Her eyes swirled with bits of agitated orange as she studied the big woman and finally squawked once.

Mekelroy moved his hand to the side of the fire-lizards head and stroked one finger gently over her head and down her neck. "She's not angry, Bista. She's just concentrating." There was a gentleness in his voice that had not been heard since this meeting began. It disappeared when he addressed Mara. "Am I right?"

Mara's smile had spread all the way across her wide face. She noticed that Bista didn't seem to be affected in the slightest by the harper's change in tone; she must be familiar with his 'act'. "Mostly, sir."

The woman's big smile was a bit annoying to the Master Harper. He was trying to make her uneasy, trying to determine her stress limits. But, there was so little time available to properly test her; he would have to trust the intuition of Masterharper Sebell. He signaled Bista to jump onto his arm and only broke his glare with Mara to speak to the little gold. "Bista, this is Mara." He gently turned her little head toward the now grinning woman on the other side of the table. "Will you go introduce yourself, please?"

With a squawk, Bista dropped onto the table and began waddling with her wings slightly spread to maintain her balance.

Lessa gasped. "She's not marked!" She glared with disbelief at Mekelroy.

Mekelroy bowed his head slightly and spoke somewhat apologetically. "In my profession, Weyrwoman Lessa, markings could prove hazardous to both of us. If you ask her who she is, she will identify herself to you."

Lessa slapped the table to get the fire-lizards attention. "Who are you?" she demanded. After a moment, her scowl melted into a smile. "That's the way I choose to think of him, too." Lessa turned her hand palm up and reached out to rub Bista's muzzle. "Thank you, Bista."

The little gold fire-lizard then turned toward Mara. She stood tall, spread her wings, and squawked.

Mara sat back in feigned surprise. "Who are you?" She was genuinely surprised at the picture Bista shared with her; Mekelroy was smiling, showing perfectly aligned and sparkling white teeth, and had a cheerful sparkle in his brown eyes. Mara let out a little chuckle as she leaned forward and began stroking the beautiful little gold. "I was right!"

Mekelroy smirked, but recovered quickly. "Mara, show Bista where you sleep. I'd like to see if . . . ah, good." His eyebrows rose slightly. "That's a beautiful bed cover. Where'd that come from?"

Mara continued petting Bista. "Someone named Lytol made it."

Lessa interrupted. "G'raden has one of Lytol's weavings?" Mara nodded. "Can you show it to me?"

Sebell spoke up. "Can you show it to all of us?"

Mekelroy was surprised to see that each person at the table seemed to react almost immediately. Several 'ahh's were heard. "Can you show all but one of us something else in the room?"

"He has another Lytol weaving hanging between the weyrs." Mara focused her eyes on Bista as each person reacted to the picture she sent them.

Lessa commented first. "Do those green and gold riders have long hair?"

Mara grinned. "Some of them."

F'lar was next. "That's a whole squadron!"

"Yes, sir!"

Sebell: "That's amazing! How big is it?" He received an altered image with G'raden standing in front of the hanging.

F'nor fumed as he saw the appreciation T'men demonstrated. "Hey!" He slapped a hand onto the table, causing Bista to squawk at him, but getting everyone's attention. "I want to see it too!"

Everyone laughed at his childlike display, which caused him to rankle even more. "Why me, girl?"

Mara batted her eyes twice, holding back the response that first came to mind. "Had to pick someone, Wingleader." She glanced at Mekelroy, who nodded permission for her to share with F'nor.

F'nor's eyes glazed just slightly before he squinted at Mara. "They're not in a proper formation. Are you sure this is one of Lytol's?'

Sebell responded with a smile. "It's a bit stylized, but it certainly shows the diversity of both dragons and riders."

The two Master Harpers shared something unspoken before Mekelroy broke up the art appreciation. "Well, let's get down to serious business."

He started by asking Mara to relay any information she could from the 'unhappy dragons', assuming that they were actually at Ista Weyr.

Mara located them quicker this time than earlier. The unhappiness was still quite intense, as was some pretty serious anxiety. The dragon's thoughts seemed to indicate the hatching would be very soon, probably not tomorrow, but more than likely the next day.

Her facial expressions bothered Mekelroy. "Will you be able to handle all that anxiety up close?"

Mara thought for a moment, trying to imagine being surrounded by so many negative thoughts. "If it's only for a sevenday or two." She seemed apologetic. "I don't know after that."

"We need to get you down there tomorrow." Others in the room nodded acceptance, so he continued. "Tomorrow morning then, just after sunrise, Ista time."

Mekelroy went on to inform Mara and the others that there would be a total of eight harper 'drudges' placed at Ista Weyr. Five were already in place, having been delivered from four different weyrs across northern Pern. Mara would meet the other two early the next morning so they would have some time to get acquainted.

Sebell asked if Pinch would be involved in this endeavor.

Mekelroy informed him that Pinch might be recognized, so he would most like send Pokey instead. He described Pokey as a mute drudge who would likely be rather clingy to someone like Mara. Pokey was good at following directions, but not very good at innovative thinking, so would need almost constant supervision.

He then suggested that Pokey and Mara might have been partners for quite some time and made a good team. Mara nodded her understanding, and Lessa and the others agreed that they would relay that story if ever pressed.

The Master Harper explained to Lessa, who seemed most concerned about this operation, that Mara would never be alone. She would always be accompanied by either Pokey or the other person they would soon meet. This seemed to allay Lessa's worries only somewhat, so he reminded her that Mara had already proven her ability to call for help if needed.

F'lar reminded Mekelroy and Mara that the squadron would be flying Thread tomorrow afternoon, but told them that Weyrlingmaster L'ret would remain in the weyr if they needed assistance.

Sebell reminded everyone that, through Kimi, he could also contact other weyrleaders if necessary.

Mekelroy studied T'men throughout the discussion, and noticed how comfortable he and the woman were together. They whispered back and forth sometimes, usually after he used a particularly obscure word. He finally suggested that T'men and Mara might be weyrmates at Benden; this allowing T'men to visit Ista with more regularity than might otherwise seem necessary.

T'men informed Mekelroy that his ex-weyrmate, one of the junior weyrwomen at Ista, would probably be quite irritated, but he agreed that extra visits could be advantageous.

Mara blushed a bit at the suggestion, but after some thought and discussion with T'men about mutually agreeable boundaries, agreed that she could act the part.

When all questions had been answered by everyone in the chamber, Mekelroy decided to use the remainder of their time on more tests. He excused Bista to enjoy the evening sun, had Mara resume her drudge character and began questioning her about her history. After the first few questions, he had T'men move further down the table and he took the empty chair. Mekelroy wanted a closer look at the expressions on Mara's face. He also hoped that less distance between them would increase the stress he intended to create.

When Mara had trouble answering how long she had been at Benden Weyr, Mekelroy asked how long it seemed likeshe had been there. She picked up his suggestion and answered that it seemed like forever.

She answered his questions about Keroon with an inordinate number of 'I don't know's, which came across as 'I don't remember'.

As the questioning became more and more demanding, Lessa excused herself to stretch her legs. She walked far enough through the tunnel to see outdoors and still be able to hear what occurred in the chambers.

When Mekelroy broached the subject of Mara's weyrmate, he thought he might be close to finding her breaking point, so he became merciless, looking for details of their relationship. She disappointed him even as he grew more and more impressed with her understanding of this craft. She repeatedly told him that T'men said not to talk about that.

"What will he do if you tell me?" Mara pouted. "Will he get angry?" He was nearly yelling. Her pout changed to near tears. "Will he hit you?"

Mara turned tear filled eyes to him. "T'men never hits me." Then she returned to pouting.

Mekelroy tried a different approach. "What does he do when he gets angry?"

She spoke quietly. "T'men doesn't get angry."

"Of course, he does! Everyone gets angry!" He sure seemed angry at this point. "How do you know when T'men is unhappy with you?"

She barely squeaked. "His eyes."

"What about his eyes?"

"They change."

Mekelroy stomped the floor. She would certainly frustrate anyone who dared question her. "How do his eyes change?"

"They get . . . unhappy."

Another door in? "And what do you do when T'men gets unhappy?"

Mara perked up for just a heartbeat and then began to whimper. "I can't tell you that."

Mekelroy slammed an open hand on the table next to her.

Mara jumped sideways and fell to the floor, where she drew into a ball and cried not quite silently.

"Enough!" Lessa called as she walked quickly back to the council chambers.

Mekelroy found himself feeling a little guilty. He extended a hand to the crying woman to help her up. "I didn't hit you, Mara."

Mara flinched at his touch and sputtered into her hands. "You want to!"

"I said enough!" Lessa glared at the Master Harper as if she would like to throw him out to Thread.

"Out of character, Mara." When the big woman turned a big smile to him, he broke into laughter. His laughter didn't stop until she was on her feet. "Shards, woman! I need you at Harper Hall!" Now, finally, he saw a flicker of true fear in the woman's eyes.

"She's needed here." Lessa's deceptively quiet rage hit its intended target.

Mekelroy bowed his head to the domineering woman and turned very serious. "Understood, Weyrwoman Lessa."

"Lessa?" Mara hoped to diffuse her anger.

"Go to bed, Mara." Lessa spoke softly, but still glared at Mekelroy. She put a hand on Mara's arm hoping to show she wasn't angry with her. "We all have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am." Mara stepped between the weyrwoman and the harper, facing the weyrwoman. "Excuse me." She watched Lessa's face as her line of sight was broken, and caught a barely noticeable partial lifting of one side of her mouth. Mara smiled before she stepped away from the two.

F'lar approached his weyrwoman from behind hoping to calm her down. He caught sight of Mara's smile and his eyebrows rose just slightly. He put his hands gently to the sides of Lessa's arms and was quickly shrugged away.

"Get out! All of you." When Mekelroy, head still bowed with respect, started to move, she smacked the arm closest to the exit. "Not you." She intended to give this harper a little taste of his own medicine.

T'men quickly led Mara down the tunnel and out into fresh air. He took a deep breath and scowled when Mara smiled at him. F'nor wasn't far behind. He slapped Mara's arm and winked at her before bouncing down the steps to the bowl.

F'lar grinned at Sebell as he picked up the wineskin and their two glasses. They moved quickly and quietly past Lessa and down the tunnel. Ramoth and Mnementh were both enjoying the last rays of sunlight high on the western ridge, so F'lar stopped on the ledge to stretch his arms.

When he turned toward the steps, F'lar found T'men and Mara leaning against the wall an arm's length from the steps. "Get that drudge some food, Wingleader. She's earned it!" When T'men looked hesitantly toward the council chamber, he added with a grin "Don't worry. We'll clean up the mess."

T'men extended his arm to Mara. "Shall we eat, Sweet Thing?"

Mara laughed, but took his arm. "Think we can find some bubbly pies?"

"We'll look."

Sebell chuckled silently and shook his head as the 'couple' made their way across to the kitchen. He and F'lar sat down next to the wall on the queen's landing ledge. Sebell held the wine glasses steady as F'lar poured from the skin, and then they sat in silence, watching as T'men apparently continued the discussion on boundaries with his hands, laughing when he reached Mara's limits. When the pair disappeared into the main cavern, they raised and touched their glasses, and sipped in silence, both enjoying the near silent, quickly cooling summer twilight.

A short time later, the time it took to finish a glass of wine, a bronze dragon descended from somewhere above. The weyrleader and the Masterharper watched as a tall woman hugged the tall rider soundly. They refilled their wine glasses as the new pair mounted the dragon and launched into the air. As laughter reached them from above, they clinked their glasses again, each leaning back to watch the climbing dragon.

G'raden's weyr

"I wish you wouldn't do this." After a mostly silent flight up to the weyr, G'raden had his arm around Mara's waist as they walked to his sleeping room.

Mara turned to him in disbelief. "Why?"

"I'll worry while you're gone." He tried to pull her back into his arm.

Mara slapped his hand away and backed out of his reach. "You'll worry?" She threw her hands into the air as if afraid to touch him.

"What's wrong?" G'raden was in shock.

"Wrong?" She almost said something, but clamped her mouth shut, shaking her head. "Just leave me be for a bit." She turned away and walked partway back to the ledge.

G'raden followed, totally flummoxed by the situation. When she turned back to him red faced, with fists clenched, he stopped in his tracks, aghast. "You're angry! Why?"

"I don't know!" Mara was as confused as was G'raden. "Just leave me be!"

"Let's talk . . ."

"No!" She backed away again. "Not yet."

"All right." G'raden backed away. When she turned back to the ledge, he walked into the sleeping room and plopped down on the bed. He sat, shaking his head, trying to figure out what had just happened, and finally rested his head in his hands.

Mara walked to the ledge, smacking the wall with the side of her fist several times as she moved. She was furious, but had no idea why. Maybe it was just the stress of the day, but she didn't think so. She sat down cross legged next to the wall a safe distance from the edge of the ledge, plopped her head into her hands and thought hard about what had just happened.

After a short time, she heard bone against stone and looked behind her to see Normond moving toward her. He lay down and stretched his neck so that his head lay just next to her.

_Do you want to go down?_

"No. Thank you, Normond." They sat in silence for a little while, both watching the light of the day fade away.

Mara looked into Normond's nearest eye. "Did G'raden ask you to come out here?"

_No. I like you too._

"Do you worry?"

_Worry serves no purpose._

"Will you tell your rider that?"

_I think you should tell him._

They sat in silence again, Mara now realizing what had triggered her anger and now trying to figure out how to explain it to G'raden. He certainly didn't deserve any anger from her, and she felt ashamed.

When the bowl below was dark and the only lights were glows and stars, she turned to Normond and rubbed behind his eye. "You should go to bed."

Normond gave her a lazy, muffled huff. _You too._

Mara stood, patted the top of his head and walked slowly to the weaving hiding G'raden's sleeping room. "G'raden?" She heard boots scuffing on the stone, so waited.

G'raden pulled aside the weaving and looked shocked again. "You don't need permission to come in here."

Mara walked under his arm and took a step into the room. "I wasn't sure." She turned and looked up at him. "I'm sorry I got angry."

G'raden let the curtain fall and put his hands on her shoulders. "You have the right. But, what caused it?"

She laid her hands on his chest and sighed as she fingered the neckline of his tunic. "When I was younger, my father wouldn't let me out of his sight." She looked into his eyes to see his reaction to her next words. "He said that he'd worry about me." His reaction indicated he now knew what had caused her anger. "So I just watched people pass by, and never got a chance to talk to anyone. It took a long time to figure out that he just didn't like being alone."

"He manipulated you." His hands glided across her shoulders, up her neck and to the sides of her face. He lifted until her eyes met his. "I'll never do that to you, Mara." He pulled gently and kissed her forehead.

Mara ran her hands under his arms and up his back as she laid her head on his chest and hugged. "Did you know that I worry about you, too?" She felt him chuckle silently.

"Me? Why?" His hands ran down her back and pulled her in closer.

"Thread is dangerous. But I never said anything because I didn't want you to lose your concentration."

"Ahh." He moved one big hand up between her shoulder blades and the other further around her waist. "Well, I won't worry about you then." He squeezed. "At least not out loud."

Mara tilted her head back to look into his beautifully expressive brown eyes and noticed again that something was still bothering him. "What's wrong, G'raden?"

G'raden tried to pull away, but Mara held tight. He closed his eyes and bent his head close to hers. "I honestly don't know. Something . . . maybe a memory . . . is trying to surface, but I don't know what it is yet."

She slowly rubbed his back. "When did it start?"

"I tried to take a nap, but it wasn't very restful."

"Will you tell me when you figure it out?"

"Of course." He held her upper arms and pushed her back just far enough to look into her eyes. "No secrets, all right?"

Mara frowned at the clash of his sincerity and her reality. "No secrets unless required by our duties?"

G'raden smiled. "Agreed. No secrets unless required by our duties." He pulled her up close again, hugged her tight and started rocking side to side. "We should get some sleep."

Mara groaned. "I should take a bath."

"I'll help."

She chuckled at him. "You're as tired as I am. I think we'll both get to sleep quicker if I bathe alone."

"Mmm," he sounded disappointed. "I want to give you something to remember me for."

"This is what I will always remember you for." She rubbed his back and squeezed tight. "I never had this before you brought me here."

"Mmmm." One hand stroked her back as the other stroked her soft wavy hair. "You take a bath, and then I'll give you all you want of 'this'." He hugged her tight with the last word.

They held each other close for several more minutes, Mara relishing his gentle strength, and G'raden relishing her sweet acceptance. They parted reluctantly; she went to the necessary room, and he began folding the woven bed cover.

After a quick, but thorough bath, Mara found G'raden stretched out on the bed covered by nothing but a thin bed cloth. She climbed into the other side of the bed and rolled into his arms.

They held each other quietly for several hours before either fell asleep. Both thought about what might happen at Ista Weyr and both wondered what memory might be haunting G'raden. When they finally fell asleep, each fell hard and deep.

* * *

Well, this 'second half' of last chapter was a little longer than I had anticipated, so I'm glad I divided it. Next chapter should actually cover a full day's events!

Please review! I could use a little motivation for the next couple of chapters. Thanks!


	19. Hello, Pokey

Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing.

* * *

**Benden Weyr**

Mara woke to a not very gentle rustling sound. A breeze in the room carried the odor of . . . dragon breath. She twitched her nose and smiled. _Good morning, Normond._

_Good morning, Mara. Ramoth says you have a visitor waiting in the dining hall._

_Thank you, Normond. How high is the sun, please?_

_Only a few of the western peaks are out of shadow._

Just barely past sunrise, Mara thought. She shouldn't have to hurry too much. _Will you please tell Ramoth that I will be down shortly?_

_With pleasure. _After a brief pause, he added, _She says you needn't hurry too much._

Mara grinned, imagining Lessa trying to irritate Master Harper Mekelroy. _Thank you, Normond._

She carefully rolled out from under G'raden's arm and sat on the side of the bed, their bed now, she reminded herself. She watched her 'weyrmate' as he lay on his side, breathing slowly and shallowly, looking so peaceful. She ran a hand up his arm hoping to stir him from his deep sleep, and felt a little selfish. But, T'men told her last evening that the sun rose three candle marks earlier in Benden than in Ista. Surely they would have time for what G'raden had wanted to give her last night. If he would only wake up.

She ran her hand slowly back down his arm and squeezed his elbow gently. He rolled away from her onto his back. She ran her hand down his lower arm and gently squeezed his hand. He pulled away and laid his hand on his chest. She laid her hand on his chest and moved it slowly across and down and across again and down to his belly, where he caught it and held it in place. Still, he showed no signs of waking up. He must be really tired, she thought.

She leaned over, allowing a little of her weight to press on his belly as she kissed his cheek. His nose twitched. She kissed the end of his nose. He shook his head and turned it away. She sat up and frowned. "Huh!" She really didn't want to give up too quickly, so with one hand still being held on his belly, she reached with the other to stoke his stubby hair. She ran her hand from his forehead, over the top of his head, down his neck and around his throat. He caught that hand with his other hand and moved it down to his belly.

Mara took a deep, frustrated breath and released it with a "Hmm". She leaned over again and kissed his chest.

"Stop that." G'raden's arm swatted at her head and connected with her jaw.

Mara sat up quickly and studied him. There was absolutely no sign that his was even close to waking up. "All right." She pulled her hands off his belly. "As you wish." She spoke at a normal volume.

G'raden sighed deeply, put both arms up above his head, and began to snore softly.

Mara stood up, frowning, somewhat peeved at him. She crossed her arms over her belly as she shook her head, and then she laughed at herself. He must be really tired! Well, she thought, let him sleep. He did have to fly Thread later today.

She walked to the necessary room, being extra careful to make as much noise as possible, not easy to do with bare feet. She did her normal morning duties and walked back to the sleeping room.

G'raden hadn't moved. And he was still snoring.

Mara giggled at him as she dressed for the day. She found a carisak in the chest on the wall near the bed and loaded it with another days clothing and her copy of _The Charter of Pern_. She looked down at G'raden again and dropped the carisak on the chest. With one knee on the bed, she put her hands on either side of his chest, leaned down and kissed his cheek.

His arms moved down and over her back and pulled her down onto his chest.

"Oh, now you're awake." Mara giggled, but stopped when there was no response – no sounds and no more movement. "G'raden?" Nothing. She lifted her head to see his face.

G'raden's jaw fell open and he resumed snoring.

Mara took a deep breath and pushed herself out of his arms, which were so limp they fell to the bed at his sides. Smiling in disbelief, she shook her head. "All right, G'raden. You sleep well." She stood up and picked up her carisak. "And fly safe today, all right?"

There was no response, so she turned and walked out of the room.

As she passed the dragon covered curtain, Normond raised himself from his couch, eyes swirling blue and green with just a trace of yellow.

Mara walked to the big bronze dragon's lowered head and rubbed between his eyes. "Your rider is a sound sleeper."

_He must be very tired._

"Would you mind taking me down to the bowl? Or should I ask someone with a rider to come get me?"

_You ride well. I'll take you down if you like._

"You are so sweet, Normond. Thank you."

They walked together to the ledge. Normond stopped farther from the edge than he normally would for G'raden, and crouched down low, extending his forepaw.

Mara slung the carisak over her shoulder, stepped onto the forepaw, and launched upwards. She only managed to grab a ridge in each hand. "Oops."

Normond huffed repeatedly as he turned his head back to her. He placed his muzzle under her feet and lifted carefully, still huffing.

Mara began laughing as she noticed that Normonds whole body shook in time with his huffing. "Guess I need a little more practice, huh?" When she had a leg over his other side, she patted his neck ridge. "Thank you for your help, Normond."

_My pleasure, Mara. Are you ready?_ He rose up and waddled slowly to the edge.

Mara looked out over Normond's head at the large bowl beneath them. Without the body of a big man in front of her, the bowl looked much larger and considerably deeper than she remembered. "I hope so."

_Move back against the next ridge. Then you won't slide when I jump. _When Mara did as suggested, Normond continued his instructions. _Now lean forward to one side of the ridge in front and put your arm on the other side._ He raised his forelegs off the ledge and took a couple more steps, spreading his wings. _Here we go._ When his hind feet could wrap over the edge of the rocky ledge, he launched up and out.

Mara laughed nervously as the wind hit her face.

_You can sit up now, if you'd like._ He had leveled off and was floating down on the air currents within the bowl.

Mara sat up, still holding Normond's neck ridge tightly. She had a little trouble with balance when she looked to either side, so kept her eyes forward, scanning the view over the long, thick, bronze neck. As long as she kept that neck mostly centered in her vision, balance wasn't a problem. "This is wonderful, Normond!"

A layer of clouds kept the humidity high in the bowl. The clouds were thicker and darker to the south and the west; it would be a cool summer morning at Benden Weyr. A layer of fog hid the lake from view as they glided over that end of the bowl. The weyrlings, dragonriders for almost a sevenday now, were outside, some in the foggy lake, some oiling hides on the sand between the lake and the barracks, and some a little ways from the entrance feeding their already growing dragonets. Several waved as the big bronze glided overhead.

As Normond made his final approach to the north end of the bowl, Mara frantically reviewed the position G'raden had assumed prior to landing, and could only remember his wide back lowering a bit in front of her. Did he lean back?

_Don't worry. I'll be careful. Sit up as if you were sitting on the ground. I'll take care of the rest._

_I'm not concerned with your skills, Normond._ Mara realized that Normond must have felt her tense up.

_Ramoth says that Lessa is upset with us._

_Uh, oh._

Normond huffed once as he back-winged to a stop just an arm length above the ground and then dropped straight down, absorbing any shock with his thickly muscled legs.

Mara was relieved. Her seat never budged out of position. As Normond lowered into a crouch, she lifted her leg over his side and began her slide to the ground. In the split second between beginning the slide and the point where she couldn't stop, she raised her eyes and saw T'men and G'regg running toward her, B'nor standing back near the entrance, and F'lar behind Lessa holding her by the shoulders as he talked in her ear. Mara's smile faded when she saw Lessa's angry face.

_Guess I won't be practicing any time soon, huh?_

_I'm afraid not. Sorry, Mara._

_That's all right. I'll remember this for a long, long time. Thank you, Normond!_

T'men caught Mara under her arms and cushioned her landing. His hands moved quickly to her upper arms and he pinned her back against Normond. He was angry – more angry than Mara had ever imagined possible.

"Do you know how dangerous that was?"

"I do now, sir. But, Normond gave me instructions."

"Only because Lessa and I sent instruction through Ramoth and Reyuth!"

Mara lowered her head to hide the touch of anger she felt rising. When did they know that she was riding alone? Before Normond took off? If so, why weren't they stopped then? If not, then Normond helped her before Lessa and T'men were relaying instructions. She wanted to ask some questions, but decided to wait until T'men's anger had subsided.

"You should have called Reyuth!"

"Yes, sir." She let a hand drop behind her to pat the bronzes side. _It's all right, Normond. You did nothing wrong._

_Thank you, Mara. Safe journey this day._

T'men, doubting her act of repentance, squeezed her arms until she looked at him. "We were worried." He let loose of one arm and turned to lead her to the dining hall, still holding her other arm firmly.

Mara clamped her eyes shut. 'Worried?' she thought angrily. 'Hmmph.' And then she realized that if she had been injured, this whole operation at Ista would have suffered. Masterharper Sebell, himself, was relying on her abilities to hear dragons and people to help learn what was going on at Ista. Now she felt truly remorseful. "I'm sorry, T'men."

"We'll talk more about it later." He had felt the brief tension of anger followed by the release of tension through her arm. He hoped that the release indicated a true understanding, but would definitely confirm her understanding at a more appropriate time. He released her arm and patted her shoulder. His anger about the past was now replaced with concern for the immediate future. "So, where is G'raden?"

"He's still sleeping." Mara caught concerned glances between G'regg and B'nor, but G'regg covered it up quickly.

"Wore him out, did you?"

His lascivious grin and sparkling eyes were too much for Mara. She landed a not so gentle punch on his shoulder.

G'regg faux stumbled into B'nor, both laughing.

As Mara turned back to face their destination, she noticed that F'lar and Lessa were walking back to the raised table, and then she spied a smallish hunched over man part way into the cavern. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the man in well worn, but clean work cloths, his hair mussed as if he'd just risen from bed.

"Mara," began T'men, "this is . . ."

"Pokey?" The man's impish, but wide grin confirmed it. His sparkling white teeth were perfect.

His arms shot up as if he were shouting 'surprise', but not a squeak emitted from his mouth.

Mara moved forward quickly and pulled the little man into a big hug, holding his head tightly between her breasts. She rocked as she would have her little brother turns ago after he returned from a day with their father. As she raised her head, as if to thank Faranth, she saw the people sitting at the raised weyrleader's table. F'nor and F'lar were laughing, Sebell looked a little concerned, and Lessa, eyes wide in disbelief, held her hands over her mouth.

_That is enough! _Pokey's arms flapped as if trying to escape.

_We're supposed to be friends, right?_

_Friends, yes. Not mother and little boy. Let go!_

Mara, laughing excitedly, released Pokey and took him by the shoulders. "I'm so glad to see you!"

Pokey's humble blush slowly turned back to an impish grin.

"Have you eaten?" When Pokey shook his head, she took him by the wrist and pulled him to the serving table. "We should eat lots. I bet we'll be working hard this day."

Mara led Pokey through the serving line, pointing out her favorite dishes, piling more of Pokey's choices onto his plate while piling hers high as well, and talking nonstop as if they had known each other for quite some time. When Mara put a redfruit on Pokey's plate, he waited until she turned and put it back on the table. When Mara saw what he'd done, she put a second redfruit on her own plate, shifting her carisak irritably on her back.

_Pokey is not a child!_

_But he needs supervision, right?_

Plates full, they turned. "Should we eat with my friends?" Mara motioned with her plate. "Or yours?" She motioned to the raised table.

Pokey turned slightly fearful eyes to her and motioned away from the head table.

They sat with three of the now four 'brothers' while most of the squadron was separated into wing groups. G'regg and B'nor, not knowing the specifics of the mission to Ista, hammered Mara with questions. Mara answered, apparently to 'Pokey's' satisfaction, getting occasional help from T'men. B'nor seemed suspicious of Pokey, but played along with the act because T'men was so supportive.

When all had eaten their fill (Pokey even ate part of Mara's second redfruit) Mara and Pokey cleared the table and carried the dishes back to the kitchen. The bronze riders joined their respective wings, preparing for this afternoon's Thread fall.

The two 'old friends' then joined Masterharper Sebell, Pokey's friend, behind the weyrleader's table. Verbal and telepathic conversations were brief but informative. All were convinced that the act was sufficient to impede any suspicion of deceit. Sebell finally suggested that Mara take Pokey to the weyrling barracks 'to see the baby dragons', which excited Pokey to a state of bouncing.

During their walk to the far end of the bowl, between Mara's verbal descriptions of various features of Benden Weyr's bowl, mostly for the benefit of the people they passed, Pokey and Mara discussed telepathically their invented history. They also reached agreement on more comfortable, for Pokey, physical boundaries; touching would, of course, be necessary, but not like Mara's earlier display.

Mara introduced Pokey to each person they met along the way, if she knew their names. As they approached the lake, she had considerably less trouble introducing him to the weyrlings and their young dragons; she knew all their names. She had to hold Pokey by the shoulders to keep him from petting Tagamarth, explaining to him in simple terms that not all dragons like to be touched. B'rand glared at both of them. Mara winked at B'rand before pulling Pokey toward the barracks.

_He doesn't like you._

_I think that is called understatement._

_Why doesn't he like you?_

_I'm just a drudge._

Weyrlingmaster L'ret seemed quite amused by Pokey's presence. Mara guessed that they had met before this day, but wondered which persona L'ret knew. L'ret turned the 'drudges' over to one of his assistants, who took them first to the young dragon's necessary room. Mara dropped her carisak on the bunk nearest the entrance.

Brendeen, Lord Holder Kashman's daughter, stopped shoveling dung as they entered. She didn't smile as she asked "Are we going to Ista Weyr today?"

While the blue rider assistant confirmed that Brendeen had packed a carisak for the trip, Pokey told Mara, through telepathy, that Brendeen had been a harper's apprentice for a short time before returning to Keroon Hold to 'help' her father and her mother, who had also spent time at Harper Hall prior to marrying Lord Kashman. He also informed Mara that Brendeen was not aware of their telepathic communication techniques, and that he would prefer she remain uninformed at this point. Mara agreed to abide by his wishes unless absolutely necessary.

The assistant left the three of them alone to finish cleaning the dung filled trough. Mara explained to Pokey that at Benden Weyr, the weyrlings, normally did this, but Ista might require their drudges to do it, so they might as well get a little practice.

As they worked, Pokey directed Mara to question Brendeen; he knew that she had recently lost a dragon and wanted confirmation that she was recovered sufficiently to return to her 'duties'.

"Are you all right, Brendeen?" Heartfelt concern filled Mara's words.

Brendeen looked at her and then smiled slightly at Pokey. "I feel better. Concentrating more on my work will help." She might not know they spoke telepathically, but she certainly knew who was directing the questioning.

The three of them agreed, through gentle suggestions from Pokey, that she would play the role of the demoralized lord holder's daughter working for her keep until she was deemed healed enough to return home. Brendeen's expressions waffled between mild excitement and less mild anguish. Pokey was finally convinced that she should at least be allowed to help with this mission.

After cleaning the hatchlings necessary room, the three were led by the assistant to the butchering area. After donning full coverage aprons, they all helped to cut meat from a fresh herdbeast carcass. The meat was then taken to a small, well ventilated room in the weyrling caverns to be chopped and placed in buckets before being stored in a cold room stacked high with blocks of ice from the northern glaciers.

Pokey and Mara worked out routines to convince almost anyone that they had worked together in the past. Brendeen mostly watched, but did help when stirred from her 'distracting memories'.

Pokey watched Brendeen closely, wondering how much of her distraction was an act and how much was real. A wink from Brendeen eased his concern and he poked a finger at her arm until she smiled for him.

Brendeen was grateful that Pokey didn't pinch like someone else she knew.

T'men and L'ret met the threesome as they exited the cold storage room after depositing the last of the buckets of meat.

L'ret had the three remove their aprons and he draped them over one arm as they were relinquished.

T'men tossed a carisak at Pokey, who nearly dropped it with fumbling hands.

Pokey grinned with pride as he slung the carisak over his shoulder, and then winced as it hit his other side and nearly spun him around.

"Where's your carisak, Sweet Thing?" T'men winked at Mara.

Mara walked quickly and gracelessly to a bunk where she had dropped her carisak, slung it over her shoulder, and grinned at T'men and L'ret.

Brendeen had walked to another bunk and donned her carisak. She walked uncaringly to Pokey's side and looked at T'men's feet.

"Are we ready?" asked T'men.

"We're going to Ista now?"

Mara's excited grin nearly knocked L'ret off his feet. L'ret shook his head at the threesome; the tall, proud, grinning woman stood next to a shorter, hunched up, grinning man, who stood next to an even shorter, sad, young girl. "Faranth help Ista!"

'What a group' thought the grizzled weyrlingmaster. He laughed heartily as they made their way out of the barracks to the waiting bronze dragon just outside.

L'ret helped first Pokey, then Brendeen and finally Mara to mount behind T'men. He laughed again at the seeming confusion of carisaks separating the three 'drudges'. Mara wound up carrying all three.

T'men passed a long safety strap to Mara, who wrapped it around her waist and passed it back to his other side. T'men tightened the strap and fastened it before saying loudly "Make way, weyrlings." Several of the young dragons had approached Reyuth as he waited to 'talk' to the big friendly bronze.

L'ret stepped back and laughed as Pokey flapped his arms like wings. He heard laughter from the other side of the big bronze, so stifled his own. As Reyuth rose up onto his hind legs, Pokey quickly grabbed T'men around his midsection, causing even more laughter from the weyrlings. L'ret could just imagine the look on Pokey's face which was conveniently turned the other direction.

L'ret wiped the smile from his face and grunted once to firmly secure a grimace as Reyuth launched into the air. "Haven't you ever seen a dragon carrying passengers?" he bellowed at the weyrlings. "Get back to work, you lazy, good for nothing . . ." Mara's laughter from somewhere above broke his concentration.

The weyrlings turned back to their duties, most still smiling. 'This group's figuring things out too quickly' thought L'ret. 'Must be Mara messing up my act.' He looked up to find Reyuth circling up and out of the bowl. Seeing two sets of arms flapping, he had to fight hard keep his smile hidden.

_Normond?_ As they rose above the weyr bowl, Mara thought about how she had hoped to talk to G'regg.

_Yes, Mara._

_Is G'raden awake yet?_

_No, but G'regg and B'nor say he'll be fine._

Mara craned her neck to find G'raden's weyr. Two bronze dragons shared the ledge. _Thank you, Normond. See you later._

T'men turned his head and nearly yelled. "We're going between now. Hold on."

Mara lowered her arms reached forward on the safety straps, grabbing firmly just forward of Pokey. She eased back a little to avoid suffocating Brendeen. "Sorry."

Brendeen giggled as they blinked into between.

The first thing Mara noticed about between was the cold. Not remembering her first flight on a dragon, she couldn't recall ever experiencing cold this deep. Next, she noticed the complete lack of physical sensation. As she gasped, and she was sure that she had gasped in surprise, there were no sharp twinges near her cracked ribs. Her gut had no lingering discomfort, and even her still healing muscles didn't hurt. And between was so quiet, totally silent, and peaceful.

* * *

Well, the rest of this day will be another whole chapter. Having trouble leaving out details. Am I too detailed? Reviews are appreciated.


	20. Hello, Ista Weyr

Disclaimer: I don't own anything having to do with Dragonriders of Pern, and don't make any money from my fanciful ideas.

A/N: It has come to my attention, through reading other stories on this site, that at least two of the names I 'made up' have been used elsewhere prior to this story. I apologize for any duplication, and solemnly affirm that I did not copy them intentionally. I have been using the PernMU Dragon Listing site as a reference (after Mara was invented) and have not read all the stories on this site – yet.

* * *

**ISTA WEYR**

They blinked out of between into heat and high humidity. There were clouds here too, much more threatening than those over Benden. A slap on her wrist reminded Mara to let loose of the straps.

Uneasiness began to grow as the humidity reminded her of Keroon. Thoughts from the unhappy dragons being so close, and therefore so loud, unsettled her even further. She decided to wait for a while to expand her listening to people. A little more time might help her adjust to all the anxiety she was already feeling and hearing.

_Mara?_

They were still circling high above Ista Weyr, far longer than should have been necessary; Mara realized that Reyuth must have picked up on her anxiety._ I'm all right, Reyuth. Thank you, and please thank T'men._

Reyuth began his descent, answering a threatening bugle from the watch dragon with a far more friendly bugle of his own.

The tall bronze rider turned his head to see Mara. "Are we ready?"

Mara grinned at him, donning her drudge persona, preparing for a much longer duration performance.

The bowl of Ista Weyr was considerably smaller than Benden Weyr, so rather than circle inside the bowl, Reyuth made one long wide descending turn around the outside of the fairly small volcano and out over Big Bay before entering from the western end. He landed with enviable grace in the middle of the southeastern end of the Ista Weyr bowl, in sight of both the main living caverns and the hatching grounds.

The bowl was mostly empty. A few people scurried around the living caverns, some obviously sneaking a peak at the newcomers. Three weyrlings from the last clutch were bathing their young dragons in the small lake near the corrals, and someone was setting out bailed grasses for the herd beasts. There was no activity in or near the hatching grounds, though two orange tinted orbs could be seen peering out. The bowl was eerily silent; even the weyrlings seemed subdued by the presence of another weyr's dragon carrying strangers.

T'men slid from Reyuth's back and turned to help his passengers. Pokey's expressive hands, arms and face hinted he would have whooped if he weren't mute. The little man scurried to Reyuth's head and patted his muzzle. Brendeen slid into T'men's arms only after some urging from Mara. T'men ushered her a few paces away to clear room for Mara who, when he turned around, was already sliding down Reyuth's side.

T'men reached up to slow Mara. "How many times . . ." he was interrupted by three carisaks hitting his ribs as Mara put her hands on his shoulders. "Ouch!" He grinned at her as she landed.

"Sorry." Mara drew the word out to a pathetic length.

T'men shook his head as Pokey latched onto Mara's arm and leaned his head against her. T'men turned to see where Pokey's fearfully attention was directed, and smiled at the woman and two men quickly approaching.

The woman walked with stumbling dignity, as if woken too early after a late wine-filled night. Her robe was neat, but her hair was disheveled. Her face was drawn and her eyes blinked constantly as if trying to clear them. The men on either side, both fairly young bronze riders, had hands poised near her elbows to keep her steady.

T'men guided Mara, with Pokey attached, to a spot near Brendeen, who hadn't budged since dismounting Reyuth. "Stay here" he told Mara and then took a step to meet the trio.

"Weyrwoman Cosira, it's a pleasure to see you again." He bowed his head only slightly.

"T'men, what are you doing here?" The weyrwoman showed no courtesy whatsoever and the men at her sides seemed as if they might actually growl.

Unflappable, T'men responded to the weyrwoman's question. "Benden Weyr is honored to loan Ista Weyr three drudges to assist with your imminent hatching." He stepped to one side and gestured toward the trio.

As the drudges were introduced, Cosira studied each one as if they were wherries being considered for slaughter.

Mara cautiously opened her mind to the thoughts of the three people studying her and her companions. She was not surprised to learn that both men were fascinated with Brendeen; she was, after all, a very pretty young woman. But the lewdness of their thoughts did surprise her. She was also surprised to learn that Cosira didn't want outside help with the hatching of her queen's eggs.

When Cosira mentally ordered her queen Caylith to leave her alone, Mara had to look away from the woman. Trying to look bored rather than shocked and angry, she looked into the hatching ground cavern and found two reddish orange orbs peering back.

While T'men and Cosira discussed Brendeen's parentage and her suitability for this work, Mara 'overheard' one of the men curse Kashman for trying to spy on Ista Weyr. He would take care of Brendeen, he mused, and Kashman would learn a valuable lesson.

"Wonderful." Cosira gushed sarcasm. One of the bronze riders whispered in her ear before she continued. "Please extend my . . . gratitude . . . to your Weyrwoman."

"As you wish, Weyrwoman Cosira." T'men's beautiful harper smile faltered when he turned back to the drudges.

"Can we go home now, T'men?" Mara wore an innocently hopeful and desperate smile. _Who's the man at her left arm?_

_B'rem. _The handsome bronze rider laughed as he took her by the shoulders. "We talked about this, Sweet Thing. Remember?" Mara pouted at him. "You're going to stay here for a few days to help with Queen Caylith's new hatchlings, remember?"

"You'll come back in a few days?"

"I'll come visit every chance I get, just to make sure they're taking good care of you, all right?"

Mara still pouted. _None of them like that idea. _"Where is Queen Caylith?" _She ordered her queen to leave her alone earlier._

T'men put his arm over her shoulders as he turned to face the Hatching Grounds. "In there. See the orange glows?" T'men frowned briefly, but then smiled at Mara. "That's Queen Caylith."

"Can I meet her?"

T'men looked toward Cosira. "May we extend our regards to your queen, Weyrwoman Cosira?"

Cosira seemed to panic. Both men held her arms to keep her in place. "Caylith doesn't like to be disturbed. Leave her alone."

T'men bowed his head. "As you wish."

Mara was still watching the glows in the cavern. _Her eyes are mostly red now._

_Interesting._ T'men smiled at Mara. "You do a good job, now. Make Weyrwoman Lessa proud, all right?"

Mara's eyes lit up as her grin returned with a renewed vigor. "We'll all make Lady Lessa proud!"

Pokey let go of Mara, turned and covered his eyes as T'men put his hands on either side of her face and pecked her on the lips. "That's my girl."

"Pokey?" T'men looked stern as the little man uncovered his eyes and grinned sheepishly. The bronze rider extended his hand. "You behave yourself, understand?"

Pokey had already taken T'men's hand in both of his and was pumping vigorously. He appeared rather taken aback by T'men's comment until the tall man winked. Then he grinned wide, wrapped one hand around Mara's arm, put his other arm over Brendeen's shoulder, and nodded decisively.

"Good man!" T'men leaned down close to Brendeen and asked her to keep the other two out of trouble. The only response he received was a wink that no one else could see. He smiled pityingly, patted her head and stroked her long beautiful hair. "Good girl."

Benden's bronze rider turned to the Ista trio. "Weyrwoman Cosira, I wish you a good day and a good hatching." When she sneered and nearly hissed, he bowed slightly and turned toward Reyuth. As he walked past the three 'drudges' his forced harper smile met the tall woman's forced excited grin. The rider lifted his chin at her, she lifted her chin at him, and both needed slightly less force to maintain their expressions.

With seemingly effortless grace, T'men vaulted to Reyuth's back. As the big bronze dragon waddled away from the small group of people, the rider fastened his straps, and then waved to the only two people waving at him. Reyuth launched into the air, creating a new whirlwind of dust with each powerful down stroke of his wings.

Mara and Pokey continued to wave as the bronze pair flew out of the bowl over the corrals and out over the massive expanse of Big Bay, until he blinked out of sight. They both wore frowns when they turned toward each other.

Both were surprised when one of Ista's bronze riders, B'rem according to T'men, roughly took the carisaks from Mara's shoulders. Pokey pulled Brendeen close and wrapped one arm around Mara's. They watched in disbelief as the rider dumped the contents of their carisaks onto the ground and kicked through the pile, grinding clothing into the dirt, and separating two non-clothing items.

He picked up a small hide-bound book and questioned Mara about it. Mara informed him with pride that is was _The Charter of Pern._ When asked what the Charter of Pern said, Mara answered with much less pride that T'men was teaching her. The bronze rider was left wondering if she could even read. He ripped the back off the book, tore pages out of it, crumpled each handful and ground it all into the dirt with the clothing. "We don't allow books at Ista Weyr. T'men knows that."

A small pad of paper was next, tied with strips of hide, with a carbon stick worked into one of the ties. Mara explained that Pokey likes to draw when he can't sleep. The rider flipped through the pages and found one with 'drawings'. The page was full of lines and squiggles and swirls. "You call this drawing?" He flipped through the rest of the pad and after finding nothing else, destroyed it much as he had Mara's book. "He won't have time for drawing."

The scowling rider threw the empty carisaks back at Mara. "Let's go" he ordered, and pointed to the northern section of the bowl. When Mara and Pokey tried to pick up their belongings, he stomped through the pile, kicking at their hands, and yelled. "You don't need any of that. Now go!"

Brendeen daintily attempted to retrieve one of her pretty tunics, but was kicked on the side of her shoulder, sending her sprawling. The man's thoughts were so lewd, Mara found herself having a few homicidal thoughts of her own. As the man moved to 'help' Brendeen, Mara moved faster, and clumsily knocked him sprawling in the dirt as she helped the slight girl to her feet.

B'rem, furious at the perceived insult, stood and moved to square off with the big ugly woman. Only as she stood to her full height and moved a massive arm around her little friend's shoulders, did he realize just how big she was. She stood almost half a head taller than he did, her girth was at least twice his, and based on the body slam he'd just received, that girth was not filled with fat.

Mara gritted her teeth to keep from grinning at the approaching bronze rider. He was all puffed up with anger, but his eyes clearly noticed their size difference, and twitched with barely controlled fear. Quickly lowering her head to look at Brendeen, she was barely able to keep her anger hidden from the pompous fool. "You all right, Brendeen?" When she stood again after brushing dirt from the girl's face, hair and tunic, the rider had only moved as close as two arm's length's distance. Not too big a fool, then, thought Mara.

They were herded north, quite literally, complete with plenty of 'hurry up's and a few shoves. The shoves stopped once Mara, stumbling to regain her balance, found herself facing the rider. The man pulled up short when Mara allowed him a brief glimpse of her anger filled eyes before lowering them and slowly turning back toward their destination. That glimpse even allowed her time to comfortably reconnect with her friends before the walk resumed.

_Report?_ Pokey never looked up.

_This wherry-brained tunnel snake thinks we're all dim-glows worth less than the skinniest, sickliest herd beast._

_Then we are achieving our goal._

_He also thinks the little one is a dead-glow, who will be truly dead when he gets her alone for a while. His dragon was very upset. Kept saying 'No, not again. Leave her alone, please'._

_So, we are now an inseparable team of three._

Mara filled him in on all the other thoughts she had heard so far, even those that didn't make much sense. As she had expanded her listening further out, she found that quite a few people in this weyr pitied the newcomers. B'rem, of course, thought Brendeen was a spy and thus expendable, and she and Pokey were dim-glow jokes, surely incapable of doing anything productive. Cosira and the other man with her didn't want any outsiders in the weyr; Mara couldn't say if that was only during the hatching or perhaps ever. Cosira's treatment of Caylith elicited no response from Pokey, and Mara guessed that she might have to explain it further at a later time.

As they approached the weyrling barracks, Mara was thrilled to add that at least one person was happy to see drudges from Benden Weyr, hoping to finally get some useful help.

They were rudely pushed into the barracks, where quite a few weyrlings sat on their bunks arguing about who outranked who. The argument was stalled only briefly as a couple of the larger boys turned their attention to the new arrivals. Rude and lewd remarks were made with no protest from any of the few older riders present.

Mara noticed that the older riders all scowled. Their thoughts indicated that this was the most disgusting group of weyrlings they had ever experienced.

The drudges were directed into a passageway with several doors on each side, and one more at the end. They were pushed to the last door.

During the short walk, Mara heard the thoughts of someone in the last room. He was wishing he could retire soon, and considered getting lost _between_ preferable to attempting to train yet another group of Toric's weyrlings.

When Mara knocked, B'rem shoved impatiently as he reached around her and opened the door, apparently not very impressed with her show of manners. He shoved the three of them into the room and stood in the doorway. "These are from Benden."

The room held six long tables, each with six chairs on the door side. At the far end of the room was a board mounted on the wall with a painted dragon on one end and various words chalked on most of the surface. A medium height man stood up slowly from one of the tables. He looked very tired and very old, with shadows under his haunted eyes, and sagging cheeks and jowls. He never did stand to his full height, as if he carried far too heavy a load to do so.

The man smiled somewhat. "Thank you, B'rem. I'll take care of them." After the door slammed shut, he smiled more broadly and gestured to the chairs as he moved another around to the other side of the table. He had apparently been in the middle of writing when he was disturbed, and picked up his paper and carbon stick. "Have a seat, please."

He sat down, put his paper on the table, writing down, and watched the drudges closely as they maneuvered to their chairs. "I am Weyrlingmaster A'mos, rider of bronze Grindeth. What are your names?" He was not at all demanding or condescending with his new charges.

"It's an honor to meet you Weyrlingmaster A'mos, rider of bronze Grindeth." Mara spoke slowly, rolling her eyes somewhat as if trying to remember the names and then smiled with satisfaction. "This is Brendeen, and Pokey, and I am Mara."

A'mos repeated their names as he offered each of them a handshake. Brendeen shrank a little further into herself. Pokey shook his hand vigorously with a silly prideful grin, and Mara shook his hand firmly, but gently, also grinning as if truly honored. The bronze rider's eyes brightened a bit with each handshake.

"So, tell me about your qualifications."

"Qualifications?" Mara stumbled over the word.

"How can you help Ista Weyr?"

"Oh. Well . . ." Mara searched the walls and ceiling for a heartbeat. "We all know how to take care of little dragons."

"Who trained you?"

"Weyrlingmaster L'ret, rider of brown Duranth."

"That mean old son of a . . ." His tirade stalled when Pokey's eyes went wide, and Mara's jaw dropped. "Dragonrider? Is he still at Benden Weyr?"

"Yes, sir" Mara answered sheepishly. "But, he's not so mean."

A'mos laughed. "You figured that out, did you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good for you." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

_He's mad at himself for letting his hopes get too high._

_Ask him if I can have some drawing paper._ Pokey seemed to squirm under the weyrlingmaster's scrutiny, and began worrying his hands on his lap.

A'mos noticed the change in Pokey's demeanor. "What's wrong with him?"

"He gets a little nervous. Do you have any paper he could draw on? That helps."

A'mos pushed the piece of paper across the table, smiling at Pokey as he placed the carbon stick on top. "There you go, Pokey."

Pokey frowned as he looked at the other side of the paper and then at the weyrlingmaster.

"It's all right. Use the clean side."

Pokey looked one more time at the writing and then made a gesture to Mara before looking again.

"What was that?"

Mara smiled as Pokey gave her a word telepathically. "He says it's pretty."

Pokey moved the carbon stick through the air as if copying what was on the page.

A'mos laughed. "I'm glad you think so." As Pokey began drawing on the clean side, A'mos questioned Mara. "And what has L'ret taught you about 'little' dragons?"

"Oh, everything!" Mara became overly animated as she began her list. "We know how to clean them, and how to oil them, and how to chop up meat for them, and how to clean up after them, and even how to fix them sometimes."

A'mos seemed more interested in Pokey's drawing. "Anything else?"

"Umm, we can clean. We clean floors, and walls, and latrines, and tables, and chairs, and windows, and umm, clothing, and harnesses, and . . ."

Distracted, A'mos interrupted. "What's that?" He pointed to a large round ball of swirls with a long thin swirl attached to a smaller ball of swirls. At the other end of the big ball, Pokey had drawn a long very thin swirl, forked at the far end.

Mara glanced at Pokey's paper before answering. "That's a bronze dragon!"

"How do you know it's bronze?" A'mos looked skeptical.

"The big head." Mara looked a little embarrassed. "Pokey always draws bronzes with big heads."

The weyrlingmaster laughed as he watched Pokey start another figure. "How long have you worked with L'ret?"

"Ohh," Mara stalled "seems like forever! He knows so much, it might take forever to learn it all!"

"That's a man!"

Pokey had created a man with a very small, but very detailed face.

Mara glanced at it as Pokey told her how to interpret it. "Looks like he's asking for help."

A'mos pulled the paper to his side of the table and studied the face; it was a very close representation of his own, and it did indeed look to be in need of help. "Where is this man, Pokey?"

Without moving the paper, Pokey reached over and drew a quick, rough sketch of a building. At the apex of the roof, he drew a perfect upside-down musical quarter note.

A'mos let a hand drop onto the paper as he sat back, took a deep breath, and again studied the three people before him.

_He's wondering if we are from . . . that building._ One of the many last minute instructions delivered this morning had been to avoid naming people or places, just in case they should ever be overheard.

Pokey politely took the paper back, and proceeded to draw an ear on a wall, punctuated with a question mark. He then turned the paper back to A'mos.

The man closed his eyes and nodded. "Tell me the proper way to oil a dragon."

"First he has to be clean" began Mara "or she. Some people use a wood paddle, but a rag or a sponge works if the oil is thin." She ran through smoothing oil first on the head, being very careful not go get oil in the eyes, and then listed each and every part of the dragon that should be oiled.

She spoke in a fairly monotonous voice, as if reciting memorized instructions. As she spoke, she overheard A'mos and Grindeth speaking to each other.

_Can you tell me anything about these people, Grindeth?_

_The girls hear us, but won't talk to us. Many of us think the tall one is the girl we knew at Keroon, but __that__ Mara would talk to us._

A'mos waited for an appropriate break in Mara's recitation. "Where are you from, Mara?"

"Me?" She looked surprised as she quickly informed Pokey of the conversation she had just overheard.

"Yes, you."

"You mean before Benden Weyr?"

_Tell him the truth._

"Yes, before Benden Weyr."

"Keroon."

_Do not tell anyone about this, Grindeth, understood?_

_Of course._

Mara was relieved to hear A'mos' instructions to his bronze and relayed a summary to equally relieved Pokey.

A'mos took a small wooden stick with a sulfur tip from a pouch on his belt, rolled up the drawing paper, and lit it on fire. Holding it away from the table, he explained. "Smoke is the best way to keep those nuisance buzz-bys out of here." After dropping the last shred of flaming paper to the floor, he thoroughly crushed the ashes into a fine dust. "Come with me, you three. We have lots of work to do."

On their way to the barracks, A'mos stopped at a room with a heavy, thick, wood door. As he opened the door, a gush of cold air escaped. He reached in and grabbed a bucket full of meat chunks. As he closed the door, he passed the bucket to Pokey. At another door, he reached in and pulled out two more buckets, one full of brushes and rags, and the other half full of oil. He handed the oil to Mara and the brushes to Brendeen.

As they passed through the weyrling barracks, all bickering stopped. The weyrlings and candidates alike stopped to stare with obvious disdain at the weyrlingmaster.

Mara heard quite a few uncomplimentary thoughts about A'mos. The one thing they all seemed to have in common was their reference to the 'old man' or the 'old fool'.

A'mos led the three drudges through the middle of the milling youngsters with determination, straight to a little green dragon whose hide was thin, cracked in spots and more grey than green. "Breaminth, dear, come with us. Your rider won't wake up till the sun is straight above us."

After a nod from A'mos, Pokey fed the little green several pieces of meat to encourage her cooperation.

Breaminth perked up a bit when Brendeen reached out and gently rubbed her head knobs. She followed the group slowly and awkwardly out to a point about halfway to the small freshwater lake.

As they walked, slowly, feeding and encouraging Breaminth along the way, Mara told Pokey that the little green was probably as hungry as the day she hatched, and that she doesn't understand why her rider doesn't hear her.

A'mos chose a location where they could talk quietly without being overheard.

At Pokey's prompting, as he continued to feed the little green, Mara questioned him about his drawing. "Why would a bronze rider ask for help from Harper Hall?"

"Did Harper Hall send you?" A'mos, while running a hand over Breaminth's hide to check her sorry condition, spoke quietly to Pokey.

Mara informed Pokey that A'mos was scared, but didn't care anymore if he got caught talking to harpers.

Pokey gently backhanded each of the girls and all three of the drudges gave A'mos humorous grins. Pokey added a few lifts of his eyebrows.

A'mos laughed at the trio's antics. "Faranth help us." He continued 'checking' Breaminth as he managed to visually check the entire area around them. Very quietly, he began his story.

"Toric has gained almost total control of the people of this weyr. But he hasn't figured out the dragons yet. He just doesn't understand the bond necessary between a dragon and his or her rider. He seems to think they can be trained like any runner beast or canine."

He stopped when a young weyrling approached from the lake with his freshly washed and oiled little bronze. "Very nice, K'tin. Now walk him around the bowl for awhile. Let him run a bit too. Work his muscles, but be careful of his wings. All right?"

"Yes, Weyrlingmaster." Young K'tin bowed with respect and seemed genuinely appreciative of both A'mos' praise and his advice as he led his dragon toward the other end of the bowl.

"Good lad!" When the pair had moved far enough away, A'mos continued talking to the drudges. "That's one of three who have a good chance of surviving past their first encounter with Thread." He shook his head in dismay. "This last clutch had twenty nine eggs. Only eighteen hatchlings actually impressed. A queen was among those who went between." He choked up temporarily. "Two more have gone between since hatching day, and I'll lay odds that at least three more will make the same choice within the next sevenday. The candidates he sent for this hatching don't look any more promising."

Tears in the girl's eyes convinced A'mos that his point had been received and understood. "Toric seems to send those least able to fit anywhere else in his grand scheme. He's also been providing plenty of weyrfolk to replace those who leave voluntarily or go missing. Another pretty young drudge disappeared just two nights ago. I hope you, little lady" he directed this statement to Brendeen "will stay very close to your friends."

Brendeen nodded just enough that he knew she understood.

"Breaminth, sweetie, if you eat any more, you won't be able to walk back to your couch. Let's get you cleaned up, and then if you're still hungry, you can have more. All right?" He led the little green and the drudges to the lake, far enough away from others to continue talking.

At Pokey's unheard suggestion, Mara asked Brendeen if she would like to bathe Breaminth.

The young woman actually perked up and even smiled as she bent to pull a brush and a pouch of cleaning sand from the bucket.

Mara heard her thinking that this little green would probably be the first to go between this sevenday. As Brendeen turned to lead Breaminth to the lake, though, and before touching her, her thoughts turned genuinely loving and supportive. All three remaining could see the results of the girl's positive input.

A'mos sat down facing the lake and directed Pokey and Mara to sit as well, saying that they wouldn't get much opportunity to do so the remainder of this day. They sat in a triangle, each able to observe anyone approaching from any direction.

As he continued talking, he picked up one brush at a time, displaying it to each of the drudges and allowing them in turn to hold it; anyone observing them would think he were giving them instructions on their proper use.

G'dened, he informed them, hasn't been seen outside of his weyr for a couple of sevendays. A'mos only knew that he still lived due to the continued existence of Barnath, but even he looked far off color. Cosira drinks far more wine than she ever used to, and the wine has something in it that doesn't belong. A'mos made the mistake of taking a sip of the wine and became rather ill; he also had trouble concentrating for almost a full day afterward.

Brendeen finished bathing Breaminth and all four treated the little green to a thorough oiling as A'mos told them even more about what he called 'Ista Weyr's demise'.

The two riders who escorted Cosira earlier are both half brothers of Toric, useless as riders, dangerous in Thread Fall, but always near Cosira. The new weyrfolk are a suspicious lot, always whispering to each other, and not at all friendly with the older, pre-Toric riders.

When Breaminth shined the way a dragon should, although still a bit grey – no amount of outside caring could replace the love of a dragon's rider – A'mos suggested that Brendeen take her for a walk, but was adamant that they stay close by.

Breaminth had other thoughts, though, and led Brendeen on a chase directly to K'tin and his little bronze. A'mos calmed Mara and Pokey by telling how K'tin and the other two hopeful weyrlings were not from Toric's Southern Hold proper. They were from small remote holds that weren't even on any maps yet. None of these boys had any allegiance to Toric or his family and were all truly devoted to their dragons.

The other weyrlings, and even the new candidates, A'mos went on to explain with gritted teeth, were all lazy, good for nothing, worthless . . . He went on for quite a while as they all watched shy little Brendeen talking to young K'tin while Breaminth played with K'tin's bronze.

He also described how morale among the older riders had fallen. Many have requested transfers; he was thrilled to see T'men get out of Ista. Casualties during Thread Fall had risen sharply due to simple lack of concentration. Harassment of the older riders by 'Toric's riders' was at a frightening level. Some were quite seriously considering 'getting lost' between just to get away from Ista.

When Breaminth grew tired, the four of them walked her back to the weyrling barracks.

A'mos apologized profusely about the work they would be asked to do this day. "Those sorry rocks probably have their own personal drudges back at Southern to wipe their sorry arses."

The Benden drudges spent most of the day bathing and oiling the remainder of the young dragons. The little ones seemed a bit confused when they were allowed to stay outside to play or nap in the sun. The majority of the weyrlings took full advantage of their 'reprieve' and disappeared into the main caverns for most of the day, while the three devoted weyrlings led the other little dragons in various play sessions to keep them occupied and hopefully improve their chances of survival.

When mealtimes came, the three devoted weyrlings managed to snag some meatrolls, fruit and a skin of cool spring water for the drudges, who were not permitted into the dining hall. They had to eat quickly in hiding as the other weyrlings were extremely unconcerned with their health or comfort.

After the evening meal and secretive inhalation of a few more meatrolls while hiding in stalls of the necessary room, the drudges were ordered to clean that same room and then the dragonet's necessary room. A'mos apologetically suggested that they take extra care to run plenty of water down the trough before they finished.

As the sun lowered below the water line of Big Bay, three exhausted drudges were led to a small storage room on the other side of one wall of the dragonets necessary room. They were given a nearly depleted glow and a small pot of numbweed before being locked up for the night.

Pokey held the glow up high to get a better view of their accommodations. He would have whistled if he weren't supposed to be mute. The room was as long and wide as a tall man. A trench down the center still glistened from the water they had just poured into the dragonet's waste trough. There were no windows or ventilation shafts, no beds, mattresses, or even pillows. The room was bare rock, with unlevel floors and nothing more than dust to give them any comfort.

Pokey directed the girls to sit as he opened the pot of numbweed and began ministering to Brendeen's bright red face, neck and arms. Mara helped herself to the pot to treat her own sunburn. Pokey, already deeply tanned didn't seem to need much numbweed.

As Pokey played healer, he directed Mara to set up a meeting with 'their friends'. Soon, seven people were ready for a telepathic conference.

Because names were not to be used, each person had a unique and fairly descriptive code name.

Blue Man had to excuse himself briefly to find a more private area for the conference. The Man, The Lady, Brother, and Friend were all together and had been waiting anxiously for word from the Tall One and the Little Man. Pokey rolled his eyes each time 'Little Man' was used. The Little One would be left out of the conference.

When Blue Man was ready and all were sure they were hearing each other, Little Man suggested that the Tall One make the report.

Mara, after a half-hearted thank you, told all about their possessions being confiscated and destroyed. She told how most of the young friends and all of the hopeful friends seem to be related to a big man down south, and how they fight among themselves over who holds the highest rank and therefore deserves the most privilege. She told about the sorry state of most of the little flyers, and of how worried the big flyers and their friends were about the prospects for the new flyers.

She told the others about how the teacher hoped to retire soon, perhaps between. And she mentioned that they had met a man who Blue Man might know.

She told them that the man and the lady here were likely being force fed unsuitable food and drink. And how a growing number of people here were probably helping.

No, she hadn't 'found' the man here yet, but the lady was confused. The biggest flyer was sad and lonely and her mate didn't look at all well.

When the Lady asked how they were being treated, Mara told how they were getting plenty of exercise and sunlight, and how the room they shared was large enough, and quite warm, and how convenient it was to where they would be working, and that it even had a lock on the door.

Yes, she told the Lady, they had all eaten.

The Lady seemed mollified, and no one had any questions, so three of the four from Benden excused themselves after each wished the best for the three down south. The Friend asked to stay with the conversation, and Blue Man approved.

Blue Man asked more pointed questions about their accommodations, and the Tall One found herself telling him how a trench down the middle would likely smell pretty bad later this night. She also wound up telling him that the room was not only warm, but hot, due to no ventilation and that the lock was on the other side of the door. She was able to convince him, however, that they were all just fine, for now.

When Blue Man questioned her about stretching the truth, the Tall One stated emphatically that the Lady felt bad enough about this little trip.

Blue Man then questioned Little Man, who after rolling his eyes yet again, stated that the girls were doing fine. Little One was with them permanently due to an unfortunate encounter, and no, there had been no visible sign of the big man here. Little Man suggested that his little friend be sent with drawing material and a small glow, so that he could draw some pretty pictures.

Blue Man agreed and said he was anxious to see the pictures, and then wished them all well before returning to another meeting.

The Friend asked the Tall One for confirmation of their condition.

Tall One wasn't quite as able to convince him of their well being. She told him that they were all tired, hungry, and sunburned, but they were otherwise doing just fine, at least for a few more days.

Tall One promised to see them very soon and left the discussion.

Mara was glad of the low light level as she wiped tears from her eyes. Oh, how she missed Benden Weyr, and T'men, and G'raden, and even that annoying G'regg. She tried not to think about G'raden's too small bed or the comfort of the big man holding her on the soft mattress. Bista's appearance helped her changed mental direction.

One moment, the three drudges were sitting, checking each other for untreated sunburn, and the next moment a small fire lizard was an arm's length above Pokey. Bista never made a sound as she dropped from the air to Pokey's shoulder, or as Pokey moved her gently down to a knee to unfasten the load she carried; a small tube containing a single piece of paper and a short carbon stick, and a small pouch containing a small, but fully charged glow.

Pokey used the new glow, wrapped in the pouch to provide a directional light, to inspect Brendeen's and then Mara's sunburned necks and arms. He scolded Mara for attempting to check him over, telling her that he never burns.

Brendeen took the glow and held it in the pouch to provide adequate light for Pokey to begin his 'pretty pictures'. Within a very short time, he had sketched each of the people they had met or even seen during the day.

Mara was astonished at his drawing abilities. She recognized most of the people he drew. Those she didn't recognize, Pokey confirmed that she probably hadn't even seen.

When the paper was full, front and back, Pokey began labeling some of the faces. Near B'rem's likeness, he drew a small dragon. Between the two, he drew a cloud-like shape that appeared to be traveling from the dragon to the man. He wrote inside the cloud, "Don't hurt her!"

He drew another cloud that appeared to be coming from A'mos. Inside this cloud, he wrote "HELP, Toric is coming!" Then he drew a single line through 'coming' and wrote above it 'here'.

Pokey then rolled the paper around the carbon stick and slid them into Bista's little carry tube. He tied the tube and the pouch with the glow back into place, and after several minutes of gentle caressing of the little gold, sent her off.

The three 'drudges' were so exhausted, they could do no more than look at each other. They each leaned back against a wall and tried to get as much rest as would be possible. Tomorrow should be a shorter day for them, but would probably be just as tiring, if not more.

As Mara almost drifted into a restless sleep, she heard a shuffling of claw against stone from one end of the trench. A flow of unpleasant smelling liquid confirmed that someone was using the room next door. She found herself giggling almost silently as she hoped very soon to again smell Normond's dragon breath blowing over her and G'raden.

* * *

Well, this one is a little longer than the others, but I had to get through this day. The next day will be a bit more exciting, but as I hope you have figured out, not very much fun. So, please bear with me. Some of your questions will be answered very soon. Thanks for reading! And please review!


	21. A hatching at Ista Weyr

Disclaimer: Dragonriders of Pern belongs to Anne McCaffrey.

* * *

**ISTA WEYR**

Mara wasn't certain what woke her up. It might have been the sweat that trickled from her face into her ears. Perhaps it was the aching muscles in her back, arms or legs; they all seemed to be trembling. It could have been the stench from the trench running through the small store room from the dragonet's necessary room next door. Those weyrlings from Southern certainly couldn't be bothered with poring a bucket of water into the trench after it was used, if they had even bothered to accompany their little dragons.

Mara turned her head on the hard rock to see the other side of the small room. The sun must be up, for a small bit of light was reflecting into the room from the liquid in the trench. Pokey sat against the far wall, eyes open, grinning at her. Brendeen's head rested on the thigh of one of his outstretched legs, and Bista was curled up on his other thigh.

_Good morning, Curly!_

Mara groaned as she moved one leaden arm to run over her head. Her hair was almost kinked; humidity always caused her hair to curl more. _Why are you so happy? _She tried to grin apologetically, but knew the grin was masquerading as a scowl.

_Another day of fun and games! Isn't it exciting?_

_Exciting? At the moment, it just hurts._

_I thought you were tougher than that._

_It's too early to be tough._ Mara tried to sit up, but the rough floor dug into her spine. She rolled to one side, caught herself before rolling into the smelly trench, and pushed up to a sitting position, biting her lips to keep from speaking. _Ouuuch._

Pokey just smiled. _You'd better work out some of those kinks before they come for us._

_What about the little one?_

_She's half your age._ He would have laughed if he weren't supposed to be mute. _She'll bounce up like a hatchling._

_And you? You're at least my age._ Mara grinned slyly, hoping to learn something about this man.

_There are ways to keep from cramping up when immobile. I hope . . . _He let the thought die, remembering Lessa's talk. It wouldn't do to frighten this woman at this point.

Mara stood slowly, joints popping and creaking, gritting her teeth to keep from moaning any more. As she worked her shoulders, arms and neck, she started listening closer to the anxiety ridden dragon thoughts bombarding her.

_The eggs are about to hatch! Dragons have been sent south to bring visitors._

_Contact our friends._

After a brief hesitation, Mara answered. _They're already on their way. Some are already here! How'd they know?_

_Bista has been a busy little gold._

Pokey, smiling with satisfaction, roused Brendeen and Bista.

Brendeen sat up, stretched like a feline, and stood with just as much grace.

_Now I know why older people get so grumpy!_ Mara shook her head as she spoke to Pokey.

Bista stood, stretched her wings and jumped to the floor without a sound.

_Will you help this old grump, please?_

Mara stepped over the trench, offered an arm to the grinning little man, and when he grasped it firmly, pulled him up. She had to clench her teeth again to keep from laughing when his joints popped as much as hers had.

Brendeen, surprisingly forcefully, turned Pokey toward the wall and pushed him against it. She worked her small hands up his back rather quickly, swirling her thumbs over the muscles to either side of his spine.

Pokey's eyes rolled up into his head as his lids closed. _Oh, by the first egg, she is so good!_

Mara clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

As Brendeen finished by working the muscles over his collar bone, Pokey rolled his head back and from side to side. He turned around, pulled a smiling Brendeen up close and began working his hands up her back. Brendeen melted against him, closing her eyes as his long thin fingers worked the same muscles she had, and finally finished on her neck.

Brendeen pushed away, but pulled him down as she stood on tip toes and kissed his cheek. Both were blushing and grinning as they turned to face Mara.

_Your turn._

Mara's jaw dropped. Hands caught her by the elbows and pulled. She finally grinned and shrugged her shoulders before moving voluntarily against the wall. Wouldn't do to fight a harper, she thought. Small hands pushed just below her waist to force her tighter to the wall. And then two small thumbs dug into the muscles on either side of her spine. They weren't just swirling – they were digging right to the core of each muscle, working each one until it relaxed in defeat. As thumbs worked near the spine, fingers worked further out. Oh, by the first egg, it really did feel good. It almost hurt, but sent shivers all through her body. The hair on her head even tingled.

Mara fought to remain silent, but a long 'Mmmm' did escape more than once. As the little hands worked her shoulder muscles, those thumbs worked along the back of her neck. When it stopped, Mara couldn't move. A gentle slap on her back brought her back to the real world.

_Haven't you ever had a massage?_

Mara turned around slowly, shaking her head. "Whoooaaaa." She leaned over to whisper to Brendeen, but had to grab the little ones shoulders to keep from falling forward. "How do you do that?"

Brendeen giggled into her ear. "I'll show you some time."

"Thank you!" Mara hugged Brendeen and was then able to stand on her own. She grinned far more openly at the two grinning at her. "Fun and games?" she asked quietly.

Pokey, Bista now firmly planted on his shoulder, lifted his elbows as if strings had pulled them up, and did a little dance, turning full circle before bowing slightly to the girls.

Bista let out a tiny chirp, which must have sounded much louder to the person whose ear her muzzle was firmly planted against.

Pokey's expression became more serious as he stood up straight and studied the girls. _Report?_

Mara began moving around the small room, more to hide her distracted eyes from Brendeen than anything. She began stretching her legs as she concentrated on the noise filling her head.

_Cosira is really upset. 'We need more candidates!' Oh, who's that? I don't recognize his thoughts. 'She's a fool. The sharding beasts will attach to whoever's available. She needs more wine.'_

Mara looked toward Pokey. He and Brendeen were brandishing lavish attention on Bista, who was soaking it all in.

_Keep going. _

_The older dragons are getting excited. Strange dragons are bringing in more people. Oh, no. Some men at the entrance are keeping them out of the stands. That strange man is furious. He's yelling at the men guarding the entrance._

_Show him to me. Ah, Toric, my old friend. Go on._

All three turned as the lock on the door rattled. Bista popped into between just before Weyrlingmaster A'mos stepped in, frantic and short of breath.

"Come quickly. She wanted you left in here, but I convinced her we need help in the kitchen." He turned and left.

They all ran, A'mos in the lead, straight across the bowl to the southern wall. Several older riders ran to meet them. The older riders took up positions to mostly hide the drudges from the ruckus near the hatching grounds.

As they ran along the southern wall, the drudges could barely see past their escorts. Dragons were landing with several young passengers each. A group of men, Toric's men according to Pokey, were guarding the entrance and forcefully keeping most of the newcomers out. Riders from the unwelcome dragons began herding their young passengers to the walls just outside the hatching grounds. Fights were breaking out between Toric's men and some of the riders, which allowed a few of the unwelcome visitors to sneak into the stands. Passenger laden dragons were swooping into the hatching grounds through the upper entrance.

The rider guarded drudges were taken into the kitchen area. Two of the riders quickly cleared people away from the nearest preparation table. It was piled high on one end with slabs of herd beast meat, dripping with fresh blood. Buckets lined one side of the other end.

A'mos took Mara by one arm and put a shaking hand on her other shoulder as he guided her to the table. "Chop us some meat. You'll have a fair view of what's happening from here." And he ran out and toward the hatching grounds.

The other riders left with him, except for the two who had cleared away the kitchen staff. They now guarded the Benden drudges as some of the staff tried to have them removed.

Mara picked up the large meat cleaver and began chopping. The noise in her head was overwhelming, so she concentrated on the meat. She pulled a slab from the pile and began chopping off long strips. She then turned the strips and chopped them into dragonet size chunks. Using the cleaver, she pushed the chunks over to Pokey, who put them into the buckets. She chopped more strips, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, and more chunks, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, and pushed them over, and pulled another slab, and chopped more strips . . .

The rhythm of chopping helped to calm Mara only slightly. Dragons and people alike were screaming in her head. The dragons were fighting amongst themselves about whether or not to help the hatchlings. Some were yelling that dragons don't hurt people. Hatchlings were frantically trying to find their life-mates, and oh, so hungry, and confused. Why couldn't they find their people? People were angrily trying to keep strangers off the grounds and out of the stands, while others were trying to find ways in, while others were trying to get to their life-mates, while others were just screaming in disbelief at the carnage taking place on the grounds.

Mara barely noticed as T'men put a hand on her shoulder. Tears flowed as the first dragonet, after angrily thrashing at several people blocking his way, unable to reach his perfect match he knew was just on the other side of the wall, blinked into between. And then another, who was forcibly removed from the arms of the boy she had found in the stands, and then another who was kept from leaving the grounds.

Mara wanted to scream; her mouth was in the right position, but she couldn't. She wanted to call out to the little ones so desperate to find their mates, but that wasn't why she was here; she was here to learn, not to help. Lessa would kill her if she tried to help. She wanted to go between with the little ones; between was so peaceful and quiet, but she couldn't, she didn't know why, but she just couldn't. She wanted to scream! Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack.

* * *

When Reyuth blinked out of between over Big Bay, T'men could already see confusion in Ista Weyr. He leaned a bit to one side to allow his passengers to witness as well.

Reyuth glided into the bowl and landed near the center, away from the other dragons from all the other weyrs quickly unloading young passengers.

T'men slid from Reyuth's back and turned to readjust the riding straps on his passengers. "Stay with Reyuth. He'll take care of you."

Masterharper Sebell slapped both sides of Reyuth's neck. "I'm confident of Reyuth's abilities."

"Be sure to duck as you enter." T'men grinned wickedly at the Masterharper. "Go, Reyuth."

As Reyuth leaped into the air, T'men ducked his head and ran to the southern wall. He made his way to the kitchen, listening in disbelief to the cacophonous events occurring throughout this end of the bowl, trying to avoid detection by those he recognized to be Toric's people.

He slid into the main entrance to the living caverns and was shocked by what he saw. Two Istan riders were physically repelling attacks from weyrfolk he didn't recognize. The riders were guarding a table where Mara, Pokey, and Brendeen were chopping meat.

Mara chopped rhythmically, staring ahead at who knows what. She was so pale, despite a fairly serious sunburn. Pokey, also pale watched her and the riders and everything else happening at the same time. Brendeen, also sunburned, but pale, held Pokey's arm as if her life depended on it.

T'men nodded at each rider, as their activities allowed, and made his way to Mara's side. She never noticed when he put a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes were glazed, her mouth hung open, and veins were visible on her brow, at her temples, and even on her neck. She chopped at the meat with true brutality. He worried about her fingers, but noticed that her actions were well choreographed, as if well rehearsed for turns. He feared disturbing her rhythm.

_What's happening, Reyuth._

_Ahhhh!_ Reyuth wasn't able to find words, so gave his rider images instead.

T'men shuddered at the images Reyuth shared. Unsteady, but unwilling to disturb Mara, he released her and turned his back to the table. He leaned all his weight against it and still had to grab hold to keep from falling. He never noticed the blood under his hands.

The eggs had all hatched. Hatchlings were everywhere, trying to get to the stands, trying to get outside, thrashing at the youngsters in white robes to get them out of the way, one lay on the ground unmoving, and thrashing at adults trying to stop them. Some blinked between in their frustration.

Caylith, roaring, eyes swirling deep red, thrashed her tail and wings at anyone who came near her little queen. Barnath, sickly as he looked, landed in the middle of the sands, roaring with anger.

The big bronze made his way carefully through the little dragonets to the entrance. When several men tried to block his way, Barnath lashed out in anger, grabbing one by the legs in his big mouth. Furious, he flung the man out of the hatching grounds, and then turned to threaten the others.

The men backed off, much to their credit, out of the grounds, and much to the disgust of one tall man near the stands, who also roared, but remained safely out of Barnath's reach.

One young girl jumped over the edge of the stands onto the sands. The tall man tried to stop her, but when a large, open, golden, muzzle roared in his direction, he fell to the ground and curled up against the wall separating the stands from the grounds. The girl connected with a little green and carried her to the safety of the same wall.

Barnath's head swung from side to side as he led the dragonets off the sands and into the bowl. He roared at anyone who tried to block their path.

Caylith followed the procession, also roaring, and snapped at any of the foolish men who tried to intervene.

As Reyuth launched from his ledge in the cavern, T'men reeled. He had to break their connection! Reyuth's understanding reassured T'men as he turned to face the table, leaning hard to maintain his balance, oblivious to the blood now flowing off the table and down the front of his riding trousers.

The harpers were here to witness this disaster. He was here to observe Mara, to make sure she didn't do anything . . . what could she possibly do wrong in a situation like this? How was this allowed to happen? Could it have been prevented? Could he have prevented this disaster if he hadn't been transferred?

_No, you could not! We would have been Thread bait if we weren't transferred!_

_You're right, Reyuth. Thank you, my love._

_We have work to do!_

_You're right, my love. Thank you._

T'men, tears in his eyes, pushed away from the table and turned to observe Mara. Only when he tried to wipe away his tears did he notice his blood covered hands, and then the blood soaking into his trousers. He chuckled at himself without much humor, wiped his hands on the sides of his trousers, and shook his head to clear his eyes.

He watched Mara, chopping away at the meat, staring out ahead, face contorted with what she must be hearing from dragons and people. Force of will kept him from pursuing that direction of thought.

Pokey's head and eyes darted everywhere, trying to take in as much as possible, his forced grin barely noticeable. He finally noticed T'men's lucid state. _What's happening?_

_Too much._ T'men shook his head at the smaller man. _Later?_

Pokey just nodded and returned to placing meat chunks into buckets.

Tears flowed freely from Brendeen's beautiful face as she clutched at Pokey's arm. Her eyes were glazed as much as Mara's. Was she hearing what was happening? T'men studied her for a few moments.

An earsplitting roar caused the bronze rider to duck and turn toward the source.

A large grayish bronze head snaked into the living cavern and roared again. People further back in the kitchen screamed in fear as Barnath barely squeezed through the entrance, and roared again.

T'men stood up and looked around. Mara continued chopping, Pokey's eyes were wide, and Brendeen started smiling.

He looked into the kitchen and found that everyone was scrambling to get out through the back tunnel to the storage caves. Only he, the three Benden 'drudges', and the two Istan riders remained, and they were smiling.

He turned again to see the big bronze emerge into the cavern and trudge angrily toward the only other entrance, roaring in that direction.

Behind him were four little dragonets; two green, one brown, and Caylith's little queen.

T'men's jaw dropped as he saw Mara's face melt into something close to ecstasy, while Pokey held his hands over his ears and shook his head, and Brendeen smiled radiantly.

_Lessa? We have a problem!_"Go, Reyuth!" That wicked T'men!

* * *

Masterharper Sebell was forced down against the massive bronze's neck as he leapt into the air. He could feel his fellow harpers pressed tight against his back. One of them held his waist so tight, he could hardly breathe. Was it those arms, he wondered, or the massive power beneath him rising into the air with so much power? He thanked Faranth that wicked T'men had tightened the riding straps. Was he getting even for all those childish pranks over fifteen turns ago?

As Reyuth leveled out and began to glide toward the hatching grounds, the other harpers sat up behind Sebell. Not wishing to be outdone by his underlings, he sat up as well.

The Masterharper immediately clapped his hands to either side of the neck ridge in front of him. Riding a dragon without the benefit of a dragonrider in front was not as easy as riding a runner beast! The biggest difference was the immense size of a dragon. No amount of gripping with his legs would keep him on a dragon; well, perhaps Ruth, but certainly not a magnificent bronze like Reyuth. Keeping the neck ridge centered helped, though, so he didn't dare look anywhere but straight ahead. He was gaining an entirely new perspective on his view of dragonriders, not that his opinion of dragonriders didn't already outmatch that of almost anyone else on Pern.

As Reyuth glided toward what seemed to be far too small a hole above the main entrance, Sebell's confidence in Reyuth wavered just a bit.

_It's big enough, but you might want to duck._

Sebell leaned forward again and hugged Reyuth's neck with all his might. Very quickly, he felt one and then the other harper behind him fall forward as well. He nearly laughed when he realized that one head rested near his knee, and the other rested against his other thigh.

The noise, once they cleared the dragon's entrance, was deafening. Sebell remained plastered to the bronze neck, knowing that some tight maneuvering would be necessary on Reyuth's part. The noise, he thought; this hatching was not going at all well.

After some truly frightening shifts of his weight on the dragon's back, all motion came to a stop, or at least to a more manageable level. Sebell realized that Reyuth must have landed on one of the many ledges overlooking the grounds. He cautiously opened his ashamedly closed eyes. And took a breath. 'Yes,' he thought, 'I have survived, so far.' He took a few more breaths, each one a little deeper than the last, before releasing his foolishly ineffective, but nonetheless comforting, grip on the bronzes neck and tried to sit up.

He laughed out loud at his own silly, prideful appreciation that he was first to recover from their little flight into the hatching grounds. "Come on, lads. We've work to do here."

It took quite a few moments, but first the Journeyman harper, farthest back, sat up and then the apprentice sandwiched between them. Sebell laughed again as he sat up as well, and turned to see the two, less experienced harpers, visibly shaking.

Sebell nodded appreciatively as first the journeyman, and then the apprentice, forcefully shook out their arms and hands in preparation for their assigned duties. He began loosening the riding straps. "I'm loosening these . . ."

Two pairs of hands grabbed at him.

Sebell laughed again and continued. "Just a bit, so that you can work. I'm confident that Reyuth will give us fair warning if he plans to fly again."

_I will most definitely warn all of you._

Sebell marveled at Reyuth's intelligence as the two harpers loosened their grips; obviously, Reyuth had bespoken all three of them. How wonderfully considerate!

"Thank you, Reyuth!"

Reyuth had situated himself sideways on the ledge so that all three harpers had a clear and full view of the events below.

Sebell surveyed the cavern as his friends pulled pads of paper and drawing tools from their carisaks. He noticed immediately that the normally blue-green glows from the ledges were instead red and orange and swirling much faster than he had ever witnessed at a hatching.

A whistle drew his attention to another dragon ledge. There sat Lord Holder Jaxom on a tiny green; how had he dyed Ruth green? Oh, poor, magnificent Ruth!

_He understands the necessity._

_Are you eavesdropping on me Reyuth?_

_I can only hear your loudest thoughts. If you will be kind enough to think loudly if you need anything, I can relax and listen to T'men and the other dragons._

_I will do so, Reyuth. Is this loud enough?_

_Quite. Thank you, Masterharper Sebell. I am at your service._

_I am most grateful, Bronze Reyuth!_

Behind Jaxom sat Fort Hold's Lord Holder Groghe, a sour expression on his face as he observed the grounds below.

Sebell scanned the other ledges; quite a few dragons carried riders. There was N'ton, Fort's weyrleader, with Masterhealer Oldive, and there was Igen's weyrleader with Pern's Masterherder and Lord Holder Kashman, who looked quite pale, even from this distance. All around the cavern, more bronze dragons carried passengers. Sebell couldn't make out the riders and passengers, but was pleased that so many were present to witness this debacle. Excellent, he thought. This outrageous breech of Weyr autonomy by Toric would not go unnoticed by the leaders of Pern.

As Sebell decided to change focus to the stands, the sight of queen Caylith thrashing about caught his attention. A girl in white tried to approach the newly hatched queen just forward of Caylith, but the angry gold apparently took offense. The little queen was searching elsewhere, somewhere toward or beyond the entrance to the hatching grounds. When the girl, who his people had identified as one of Toric's many daughters, moved into the little gold's line of sight, Caylith lashed out and slammed her head into the girl, sending her flying into the far wall of the cavern. Sebell gasped as the girl dropped like a cloth doll to the hot sands. This hatching was not going at all well.

Forgetting his original intent to locate Pern's leaders, Sebell scanned the sands. Two other youngsters lie soaked in their own blood; one was screaming, the other lie motionless. Other candidates were running away from the seemingly insane Queen Caylith who seemed to be herding the hatchlings toward the exit.

At the exit, a large grayish bronze dragon – could that be Barnath? – angrily threatened anyone trying to stop his forward motion.

Was that fool brandishing a knife at Queen Caylith's mate? As the man swiped at the dragon, the dragon turned his head sideways, opened his mouth, and stretched out to grab the man by the legs. He pulled his head back and flung the man like a wherry out past the entrance.

"Oh, dear Faranth!"

_We should go outside soon. Masterharper?_

Sebell shook away the shock of what he had just witnessed. _Yes, Reyuth. A moment, please?_

He turned to see his fellow harpers already stowing their drawing pads, and then turned back to the procession below. As the harpers scooted closer, he tightened the riding straps securing them all, and leaned forward tight against Reyuth's neck.

_Masterharper?_

Sebell could feel a head on each of his legs; not so amusing this time. _We're ready, Reyuth._

As much as he would have preferred, he could not close his eyes as the bronze dragon dropped from the ledge, spread his massive wings and glided toward the dragon's entrance to the hatching grounds.

As they flew through the not so tiny hole in the side of the cavern, Sebell saw some of the little dragons veering away from the procession.

_Can you land close so my friends can see as much as possible?_

_I'll do my best._

A couple dragon lengths outside, Reyuth performed a hair-raising pinwheel, wings down-stroking seemingly autonomous of each other, and dropped to the ground. Were he not so focused on the view of the ground, Sebell mused, he might have lost his meager breakfast. Strange, what goes through a person's mind at difficult times.

As Reyuth turned to afford the harpers the best view, Sebell loosened the straps and realized his friends were already recovering their pads. When Reyuth settled, Sebell unfastened his straps, ran them under his legs, refastened them to keep the other two secure, and began his dismount. He didn't dare slide down like a dragonrider would, not trusting his legs to catch him when he landed. So he reverse climbed down Reyuth's side, holding the riding harness with unsteady hands as he went.

He shouldn't have been surprised, but was, when a strong hand grasped his belt, and another guided his foot to the bronzes forearm. That hand caught his upper arm as he took another step to the ground, and kept him from descending even further. Once both feet were firmly planted on beloved Pern, he turned, grateful for the supportive hand, to face Weyrleader F'lar, who scowled at him.

"Masterharper Sebell!" he mockingly scolded. "You should have waited for assistance."

"Not on your life, F'lar. Would you mind terribly checking the straps on my friends?" He tried to motion upward with a shaky arm, but ended up merely patting Reyuth's side far below his own shoulder height.

When F'lar nodded, Sebell tried to make his way closer to the dragonet parade, but his knees buckled. Or would have, had F'lar not grabbed his belt again to keep him from falling.

Sebell laughed at himself as he held his friends shoulders and allowed himself to be pushed back against the marvelously soft dragon's side. "This is embarrassing."

F'lar let loose of Sebell's belt and pulled a small skin from his own belt. "You're a harper, not a dragonrider. Drink this. It's not the tastiest of wines, but it's effective."

As Sebell took the first swallow, grimacing only slightly, and a bit of color returned to his face, F'lar put a hand to the harper's chest. "Wait for me! Sit if you need to."

"Yes, Weyrleader!"

F'lar patted the man's chest and then quickly climbed Reyuth's riding harness to check the safety straps securing two furiously sketching harpers, who didn't even notice his presence.

Sebell marveled at the rejuvenating properties of this fortified wine. He felt almost normal again. He smiled gratefully when F'lar appeared from above to study his face. He handed back the skin and did not refuse the weyrleader's supporting arm as they both moved to get a better view.

Barnath, grayer than Sebell had ever seen him, was almost to the living cavern entrance. Most of the dragonets had found their mates along the walls just outside the hatching grounds, but four followed their sire, and were followed closely by their dam. Caylith was a bit calmer now, but still thrashed her head back and forth, daring anyone to thwart their progress.

Cosira, holding her head and screaming unintelligibly, only stood upright due to the strength of the two bronze riders on either side. G'dened was nowhere to be seen.

Sebell was uncomfortably pleased to find that Lord Holders, Craft Masters and of course dragonriders lined the path set by Barnath.

When the large bronze disappeared into the cavern, he, with F'lar's comforting assistance, moved cautiously in that direction. Barnath's echoing roars from inside the cavern startled everyone outside.

Weyrwoman Lessa suddenly appeared on Sebell's other arm, and the three of them followed a discreet distance behind Caylith, who, thankfully, didn't try to enter the cavern.

The golden queen lowered her head to peer inside the living caverns, and then turned, bellowing at the approaching crowd, keeping them at what she considered a safe distance.

Lessa's Queen Ramoth approached from somewhere close behind them, and made her way carefully, but quickly toward Caylith. The two golden dragons seemed to confer with each other, before Ramoth moved to stand guard next to Caylith.

Gold Ramoth's presence calmed Caylith substantially. As Sebell found himself being led beneath the dragons outstretched necks, he wasn't sure if he really saw Caylith's neck snake over Ramoth's.

"Oh, dear Faranth!"

Lessa's oath drew Sebell's eyes back to ground level and into the living cavern.

"Oh, my."

* * *

Can you guess what will happen?


	22. Hello Saraneth, Klamath, Mynth

Disclaimer: I don't own Pern, I just play there.

* * *

After eating their break-fast meal, F'lar, Lessa, Sebell, F'nor and Brekke adjourned to the council chambers to wait for the impending hatching. All were tired; it had been a late night.

After Bista delivered Pokey's drawings, T'men had taken Sebell to Southern Weyr. Dragonriders and weyrfolk there were able to identify most of the people Pokey had drawn. Most were sons or daughters of Lord Holder Toric. Most of those remaining were people well known to have given total allegiance to Toric. Sebell himself recognized one unlabeled, but circled drawing as 'Fourth' from earlier sketches.

Within an hour, Reyuth had returned carrying T'men, Sebell, and two of Harper Hall's best and fastest sketch artists.

By then, thanks to their newly learned telepathic communications, Lessa, through Ramoth, had already started contacting all the other Weyrwomen of Pern to set the trigger for the intervention that could begin at any moment.

Harper Hall had been keeping all the weyrleaders, and most especially, F'lar and Lessa informed of events transpiring at Ista Weyr for the last several years.

Harper Hall was already aware that more and more candidates were coming from Southern Hold, and had determined that most of them were children of Toric. His children, from many different women, had impressed quite a few dragons in the last five turns. But fewer and fewer of the bonds were sufficient for healthy development of the dragon/rider teams.

T'men had been instrumental in keeping Harper Hall informed, but when someone at Ista discovered, or remembered, or perhaps was told, of his prior connection to the Hall, T'men had been shut down as a source of valuable information.

For almost a turn, T'men and Reyuth had been left out, assigned to menial tasks away from the weyr, or confined to their weyr, sometimes under guard. When they were both very nearly killed during Thread fall, due to other rider's purposeful neglect, they had gone to Harper Hall to accept the Masterharper's offer of reassignment.

For almost a turn, Harper Hall had been blind to what was happening at Ista Weyr. People they tried to plant among the weyrfolk had disappeared, or been threatened into leaving. All Harper Hall had been able to learn was that Ista Weyr did not want any outsiders.

And then, just a few days earlier, a bronze rider claiming to be from Ista Weyr, had spent hours talking to Sebell about the previous hatching, his fears about the impending hatching, and then all else that he knew about what he had called 'the demise of Ista Weyr'. He hadn't given his true name, though, and nothing he said could be verified, but Harper Hall passed his information on to F'lar and Lessa.

Mara's verification of some information through her hearing of the 'unhappy dragons' had provided enough evidence to begin preparation for the weyrs intervention in what was presumed to be Toric's interference.

But, Harper Hall still had no verifiable proof that Toric was involved. It was quite possible that Toric's children had been properly searched, even though Southern Weyr had never been informed. The fact that the Istan dragons worried about the suitability of the Southern candidates was helpful, but not quite enough to be called irrefutable proof.

A'mos' confirmation that the weyrleaders were probably being drugged, and Pokey's drawings showing both Toric and 'Fourth' at Ista, provided considerably more circumstantial evidence; enough to invoke the drastic measures that the weyrs, and almost all of the holds and crafthalls, considered appropriate and justifiable. Any holds or halls known to affiliate closely with Toric had been left out of the decision to intervene.

Benden's dragons had all been harnessed shortly after Rukbat's rising this day. Involved riders and candidates had eaten early and now waited for the final word to proceed.

About an hour, according to Sebell's frequently checked new timepiece, after moving to the council chambers, Kimi and Bista, chirping excitedly, popped into the room over the center of the table in front of Sebell.

Their sudden appearance caused quite a bit of klah to spill onto the table, the floor and a few tunics. After a bit of surprised laughter, Sebell was able to get the pictures Bista and now Kimi were relaying.

Queen Caylith's eggs were starting to rock.

Lessa immediately had Ramoth contact all the other queens on Pern.

F'lar had Mnementh notify the dragons of Benden Weyr.

Sebell contacted T'men telepathically; T'men would bring the two other harpers and come for him.

F'nor and Brekke left at a run to round up the healers.

F'lar, Lessa and Sebell all left the room to do their pre-assigned tasks.

F'lar would orchestrate the bronze rider's roundup of Lord Holders and Craft Masters in Benden's tithing holds. Bronze dragons would be more likely to obtain the best ledges in Ista's Hatching Cavern.

Sebell and his sketch artist friends would be some of the first to arrive at Ista Weyr. T'men would find and keep an eye on Mara.

Lessa would make sure all of Benden's candidates were transported safely and quickly, and notify Manora to start preparing travel rations for use later in the day.

After mounting Ramoth, Lessa had her queen drop down near the living caverns. Manora was already outside checking on the source of the commotion. Lessa told her that it's time and Manora waved and ran back to the cavern, shouting orders as she went.

T'men informed Lessa that he and the harpers were leaving.

Lessa had Ramoth fly down to the weyrling barracks.

The youngest weyrlings had been taken to the lake and were being kept busy there, in preparation for the activity already commencing. Older weyrlings, non-involved riders, and weyrfolk would tend to them until L'ret and/or his assistants were able to return.

Candidates were already being loaded onto brown, blue, and green dragons. Unassigned riders were busy loading candidates, encouraging them as they strapped them on, and double checking those safety straps, before clearing each dragon to leave. L'ret oversaw all of it.

F'nor informed Lessa that he and Brekke were leaving with Master Healer Tarminas and Journeyman Healer Loralin.

As the last of the candidate-bearing dragons launched into the air, brown Duranth landed. L'ret, after turning around, checking that he hadn't forgotten anyone or anything, mounted, and they were off to the other side of the bowl. They would take dragon healers to Ista Weyr.

Within a matter of minutes, the bowl of Benden Weyr was quiet again. Lessa looked around, ran through her mental checklist, and, full of apprehension, or was it dread, asked Ramoth to take them to Ista Weyr.

Gold Ramoth blinked from between high above Ista Weyr. The entire bowl was still in shadow. Inside the bowl, Lessa saw chaos, complete and utter.

Weyrwoman Lessa had requested their high entrance to better prepare herself for the onslaught of dragon noise that she was unable to totally quiet at the best of times. Over the years, she had grown accustomed to the constant chatter, and like Mara had stated, at least dragon thoughts were normally happy thoughts. At present though, even from this distance, the chatter was like being at the center of a violent gather brawl with an entire hold involved. So, she worked hard to concentrate on Ramoth, and only Ramoth.

_Ramoth, dear?_

_The eggs are just starting to hatch._

_Can you calm the dragons, please? Ask any dragon not carrying passengers to leave the bowl._

Ramoth didn't respond, but evidence of her communications was nearly immediate. Dragons began leaving the bowl to perch where they could, some on their own weyr ledges inside the bowl, some on the ridges around the bowl, and some outside the bowl on the plateau between the beast corrals and Big Bay.

As they spiraled down, Lessa could finally see ground near the hatching grounds. Bronze dragons still passed into the Hatching Cavern, while other dragons unloaded candidates and other passengers outside the grounds.

_Men are stopping the hatchlings from finding their riders._

_Take us down, please._

Lessa could see fights breaking out near the entrance to the grounds. A few people managed to get inside.

_The eggs have all hatched. Caylith is angry. The girl tried to stop Caylith's daughter._

Ramoth's slow, spiraling descent was soothing, in stark contrast to the noise in her rider's mind.

_Barnath is angry. He hurt someone._

_Oh, poor Barnath._

As they glided closer to the ground, Lessa could see Barnath leaving the grounds. She was sure that Ramoth was telling her only the minimum to keep her informed. Ramoth knew how taxing such overload could be to her human rider and would protect her as much as possible.

Lessa could see several men being physically detained by other men. Some of those being detained were riders.

_Ramoth, dear, please inform the dragons that no human is be permitted to leave Ista Weyr._

_Mnementh, Canth, and Grindeth are patrolling the outside entrances._

_Thank you, love._

Lessa could now see the man Barnath had injured. He had been drug away from the entrance and was encircled by a large group of people. F'nor and Brekke were closest to the man. F'nor and several other riders seemed to be protecting the man.

_Barnath is leading the hatchlings outside. Caylith is helping._

_I see him. Good, they're finding their riders. _

Hatchlings were veering away from the entrance to meet up with their chosen riders. Older riders from all weyrs were quickly escorting the pairs away from the entrance. Two small greens and their riders appeared to be ferrying buckets of meat from the weyrling barracks to the other end of the bowl.

Who were those fools standing outside the barracks? They're getting in the way.

Bronze dragons bearing passengers were now exiting the cavern. They landed a short distance outside, unloaded passengers, and left promptly. It all appeared quite organized, in a chaotic sort of way.

_Where is Barnath going, dear?_

_The little queen's rider is in the kitchen._

_Where's Mara?_

_In the kitchen._

_Oh, dear. Do you hear Mara at all?_

_She has been, and still is quite silent._

_Let's land, love. Do you see F'lar and Sebell? Near Reyuth? Let's land near them._

Ramoth landed a dragon's length behind F'lar and Sebell with her usual grace, and lowered herself to the ground to assist her rider's dismount.

Lessa walked calmly, despite the anxiety she was feeling and hearing, toward her weyrmate, observing the chaos as she went. Lord Holders, Craft Masters and Dragon Riders rushed to line both sides of the path Barnath had set to the Living Caverns.

Barnath's roars and people's screams could be heard from within the cavern. 'Oh, dear Faranth, don't let him hurt anyone else' Lessa thought to herself. She tried to reach out to Barnath, but he wasn't hearing.

Seeing how F'lar supported the Masterharper, Lessa moved to Sebell's other side and took his arm.

Four little dragons were waddling into the cavern, with Caylith following very close, thrashing her head from side to side, bellowing, now quite hoarsely.

_Ramoth, dear, can we do anything to help calm poor Caylith?_

_I'm trying, Lessa, as are the other queens present._

_Thank you, dear. I should have known._

For a brief moment, Lessa felt a bit inadequate for not being able to sort through all the noise in her head, but scolded herself promptly. 'We each have limits we must learn to live with' she reminded herself, and wondered how Mara was handling the noise.

Caylith ducked her head into the cavern, backed out, and turned around, blocking most of the entrance. As she bugled threateningly at the crowd to keep them back, Ramoth approached, crooning loudly, but gently as she carefully navigated through the few people closest to Caylith.

Lessa smiled slightly as her amazing life-mate calmed poor, heartsick Caylith.

As Ramoth took up a position next to the distraught queen, Lessa tugged on Sebell's arm. Now it was safe to enter the cavern.

Lessa smiled again when she felt, through Ramoth, Caylith wrap her neck up and over Ramoth's for comforting, loving support.

"Oh, dear Faranth!" She stopped at the entrance, thankful that Sebell's arm was available. This was not at all what she had expected to find.

Brendeen, Lord Holder Kashman's daughter, had impressed the little queen. A girl Lessa didn't know had impressed one of the greens. The second green bawled pitifully and blinked into between, causing yet another uproar among the dragons. And Mara was feeding the little brown.

Mara appeared to be on the verge of breakdown. She smiled at the little brown, but her face was bright red and scrunched into the most horrible cross between torture and ecstasy.

Brendeen looked only a little better than Mara, and T'men appeared to be in shock, standing behind a table loaded with meat slabs. Was that Mekelroy on the floor behind the table?

A loud, but also hoarse roar pulled the weywoman's attention to the right. Barnath had planted himself in the passageway to the rest of the living caverns. He looked horrible; gray, dry, undernourished, and so terribly weak.

Lessa left Sebell's side to try to calm the big bronze. When she saw ichor running down his muzzle from somewhere near his left eye, she bespoke F'lar.

_F'lar, we need healers. Dragon and human._

_I'll find them._

Lessa approached Barnath carefully, exerting all the mental strength she could muster to sooth him.

_I hurt someone._ Barnath's head wobbled as he confessed.

_I know, dear, but you were provoked. Did he cut you?_

_He tried to stop us with a knife. The little ones had to get outside._

_It's all right, Barnath. You were protecting yourself, your mate, and your hatchlings. __No one__ can blame you for hurting that foolish man._

Lessa was finally able to place her hands on Barnath's muzzle. Her touch soothed him far more than she had expected. He nearly melted to the floor, exhausted, and hopefully relieved that she at least would not blame him for hurting a person.

_Where's your rider, Barnath?_

_He's sleeping. He's been sleeping as long as I can remember. I miss him._

_I'm sure you do, dear._ That could explain his deplorable condition. How long had it been since he had been properly cared for?

Lessa directed her thoughts to F'lar. _Do you know where G'dened is?_

F'lar's answer seemed somewhat distracted. _D'ram and Lytol are with him, as well as Oldive and Tarminas. They just sent blood samples to Landing for analysis._

Lessa turned her focus back to Barnath. _He'll be all right, Barnath. Healers are with him now. You can rest now. Everyone is safe._

_Why did that man refuse to bond with Reaneth?_

_I don't know, dear._ Lessa looked toward the kitchen where Sebell and T'men tried to revive Mekelroy. _But he's paying for that decision._ She wasn't about to tell him the reason she suspected in his current state.

When the healers arrived, Barnath was nearly asleep. She reminded him to please do as the healers asked, and left him in their capable hands.

Ramoth, when asked, told her that Caylith was also resting and being attended to by both healers and riders.

_F'lar, am I needed outside?_

_No, love. We have everything under control, more or less._

Lessa wondered about the 'more or less', but he had seemed distracted again, so she decided not to bother him further. As she walked toward the kitchen area, Sebell left Mekelroy in the hands of a healer. Brendeen had the assistance of a healer and an Istan rider and appeared to be doing much better than earlier. The other girl also had a rider helping her, and seemed quite oblivious to anything else that was happening. Mara, though, was fighting with a healer while trying to keep her little dragon fed and calm, while fighting who knows what inside her mind. T'men was with her, but perhaps Lessa would be of the most use there.

* * *

When F'lar left to search for healers, Sebell went to the aid of his friends behind the meat cutting table. T'men was already snapping out of his confused stupor and squatted down to check on Pokey.

"What happened?" Sebell squatted on the other side of Pokey.

"I'm not positive. I think he refused to bond with that green."

Sebell pulled Pokey into a sitting position and shook him. "Pokey, report!"

Pokey just shook his head, grimacing horribly.

_Master Mekelroy! Report!_

Pokey began muttering. "Harper, to your word be true. Harper, to your word be true."

T'men took Pokey's face in his hands and directed his thoughts to both Pokey and Sebell. _You are a harper, not a dragonrider! You made the right decision._

Pokey muttered again. "I'm sorry. I couldn't. I'm so sorry."

"We understand, my friend. No one will fault your decision. We understand." Sebell sat down, took Pokey in his arms and rocked him.

Pokey returned to his first muttering phrase. "Harper, to your word be true." He repeated it over and over again.

Sebell was relieved to see a young woman he knew from Healer Hall at Fort walk up behind T'men. She was familiar with Mekelroy/Pinch/Pokey and his line of work, and had proven more than once to be quite capable of discretion.

Sebell suggested that T'men help Mara; he knew Mara better than Sebell did, and Sebell knew Mekelroy better.

He explained to the healer what they believed had happened, and then rocked his long-time friend until a healthy dose of fellis took effect.

_F'lar, where are you friend?_

_Sitting on Reyuth. Follow your ears._

_I'm on my way._

He left Pokey in the hands of the healer. As he passed Lessa, they exchanged meaningful glances and both smiled. Everything would be all right. Eventually, everything would be all right.

* * *

T'men was also relieved to see the healer's arrival. Mara had assistance, but was not responding well. The rider with her had no idea why she wasn't acting like most new weyrlings; the poor man appeared quite relieved when a healer appeared, but then totally baffled when Mara refused the healer's help.

T'men slapped the Istan rider's shoulder. "I'll take it from here. Thanks for your help, K'lem."

"Good luck, T'men. I've never seen this before!"

T'men turned to the healer, trying so hard to help this distraught woman. "No fellis. She has bad reactions to it. No wine either."

He squatted beside Mara as she fed her little brown dragon, crooning to him about how wonderful he was. Oh, she looked horrible! Drawn, tired, shaky, confused, sun-burnt, dehydrated. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Have you eaten yet, Mara?"

When she turned her tear streaked, bright red, smiling, scrunched up, vein popping face to him, his heart almost stopped. She shook her head.

T'men looked at the healer; he got the message and left to find food and hopefully water.

"What's his name, Mara?"

"Klamath."

"He's beautiful!" T'men tried to smile, even as tears threatened to flow.

"Isn't he?" The word 'he' caused massive confusion to contort her face even more. She understood how unusual this impression was.

He knelt behind her, put one arm around her shoulders, the other around her waist, and his head next to hers. "Shhh. He's beautiful! And perfect! And he needs you to give all you can to him right now."

Mara relaxed a little in his arms and leaned her head against his as she continued popping chunks of meat into her ravenous little brown. "He is beautiful, and perfect. And he's smart, and so sweet and loving. And so hungry!"

Was that a chuckle? Good. "Mmm hmm. Sounds like a perfect match!" She did chuckle at that. "You concentrate on Klamath. Don't think about anything else. He needs you desperately, and you need him."

He leaned his head away to get a good look at her. Her face was beginning to relax. The veins weren't nearly as distended. "Good. Keep an eye on his belly. Make sure he doesn't pop."

She did laugh at that, and squeezed his arm under her chin before moving it back to Klamath's neck.

"What's his name?"

Lessa's gentle voice caused Mara to tense up again.

T'men squeezed just a bit. "Shh. It's all right."

"Klamath. I didn't call him, Lessa. I didn't talk to any of them, I promise."

"I know, dear. I know."

T'men loosened his hold on Mara and moved his head to her other side. He was about to let her go when Lessa put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. She knelt down beside them and put her other hand on Klamath's back.

"He's beautiful, Mara." Lessa smiled affectionately.

"He's brown, Lessa." Mara stated a fact, with no complaint.

Lessa laughed lightheartedly. "That he is, dear!" She turned to study the little dragon a bit closer. "And with a little bit of bronze, I believe!"

"What?" T'men's half-hearted objection caused both women to laugh, and Mara to relax again.

"Klamath chose you of his own free will, Mara." Lessa was more serious now. "Dragons know their perfect match, even if we mere humans don't always understand."

T'men contemplated Lessa's way of finding the perfect words as he watched Mara's face relax even more.

"I think you've had enough, my handsome Klamath." Mara turned to Lessa. "Do we need to go to the weyrling barracks now?"

The healer crouched on the other side of Klamath and addressed Lessa. "I don't think any of these three should be moved anywhere, Weyrwoman Lessa. They've seen enough stress for one day."

When Lessa nodded, he handed a glass over Klamath to Mara. "Here you go, Mara. Juice. Drink it slowly."

T'men released Mara's shoulders and took the glass from the healer. "Nothing else?" He took a sip after the healer shook his head, held it in his mouth for a long moment, and finally swallowed. "My apologies, healer. I don't know you." He put the glass into Mara's hand and helped steady her as she sipped.

"Oh, my apologies, Wingleader, Weyrwoman Lessa," he smiled most kindly and bowed slightly. "Brown Rider Mara. I'm Journeyman Healer Randerall from Monoco Bay Weyr."

Weyrwoman Lessa asked a couple of the Istan riders present to find some bed sacks for the three new weyrlings and for Pokey; he would remain here for awhile. Smashed tables and chairs were cleared away and three mattresses were set along the wall between Barnath and the main entrance. Barnath would see three happily mated hatchlings when he woke. Pokey was laid on a mattress behind the head table, out of the way from any eavesdropping ears.

As the 'kitchen dragonets' finished stuffing their little bellies, they were each led to a mattress along the wall. Little green Mynth was placed in the center. Her mate, Calloreen, after Mynth fell asleep, bounced with joy into the kitchen area and was quite confused at finding her foster mother being detained along with most of the kitchen staff. Calloreen had only recently been sent to Ista Weyr when her parents had been killed just outside their small hold by a pack of vicious canines.

Brown Klamath was led to the mattress closest to his sire, and queen Saraneth was placed closest to the door so that when Caylith awoke, she would be able to see her beautiful little daughter sleeping comfortably and well fed.

Mara and Brendeen were encouraged to drink as much water as they could handle. All three 'kitchen weyrlings' were fed well before being allowed to join their new life-mates for a well deserved nap.

As Mara ate, she was not allowed to speak of anything that had happened this day; too many people in the kitchen area would be even more suspicious of her if they knew of her 'other talents'. T'men, and sometimes Lessa, kept her busy with lighthearted questions testing her knowledge of caring for her new life partner. Any talk of potential problems was quickly deferred to a later, more appropriate time and place.

One of Ista's older riders resumed cutting meat. He cut the slabs with a knife rather than the meat cleaver. It took more time, but was quieter. He worked for a few minutes before being relieved by another older rider, who was also relieved after a few minutes. Lessa understood; everyone would be anxious to see for themselves Pern's first female brown rider.

When F'lar asked about feeding the crowd, Lessa began searching the kitchen and then the storerooms, at least those that weren't locked. Weyrfolk seemed to be quite scarce. On finding very little ready to eat - even the hearth pots held only thinned down stew - she asked Ramoth to notify the other queens, and the junior queen at Benden, that travel rations would indeed be needed. Within minutes, riders from all weyrs were landing outside with bundles of ready to eat meals, bags of fresh fruit, and skins of wine.

When the meals were not delivered to the kitchen, Lessa went outside. There she found that someone had set up a dining area under canopies in a pleasantly breezy area between the kitchen and the hatching grounds. She rounded up enough meals and skins for those in the living cavern.

After ensuring everyone in the kitchen was fed, she stood for a minute, looking around Ista Weyr's main living cavern. No edible food in the kitchen, but a smiling dragonrider cutting meat for hatchlings; few whole tables in the dining area, and those pushed out of the way for a very large sleeping bronze dragon and three tiny but beautifully healthy hatchlings; healers and riders sitting in chairs near each dragon pair, talking quietly. All appeared under control here, if considerably out of place.

T'men alone, sat near Mara. He straddled the back of a chair and rested one hand on her highest shoulder as she curled around Klamath. Lessa walked to his side and put a hand on his shoulder. "Why is this not completely unbelievable?"

T'men smiled at her. "She is rather unique."

Lessa smiled, but shook her head. "How's she doing?"

The bronze rider sighed. "She understands how unique her situation is, but is only beginning to consider the ramifications."

"There's plenty of time to figure it out."

"She said she's having trouble pushing back the voices."

Lessa's eyes closed involuntarily. She shook her head and then looked at T'men. "Maybe after she's rested."

He nodded his head at his hand on Mara's shoulder. "This helps a little, for now." He turned back to his weyrwoman. "She knows she can't be with G'raden for awhile."

"That, I think, will be the most difficult part of this." After a few moments, the weyrwoman patted the rider's arm with her free hand. "I think I'd better see what our weyrleader is up to."

* * *

AU? Non-canon? You decide. But it won't change the story.

Your comments may cause further explanation in future chapters, though.

Thanks for reading! One more chapter to cover this hatching, and then . . .


	23. What happened?

Disclaimer: Pern belongs to Anne & Todd McCaffrey. I just play there.

* * *

"Oh, dear Faranth!"

"Oh, my."

Weyrleader F'lar snapped his head from the listing Masterharper to the scene in the living cavern. At that very moment, one little green disappeared. In the same moment, he realized that the other three dragonets had apparently impressed. And then he noticed Mara, feeding the little brown.

"Oh, shards."

Four experienced Istan dragonriders each excused themselves as they squeezed past the threesome blocking the entrance.

A dragon roared weakly from the right, causing three heads to snap in that direction. Weyrwoman Lessa left the group and walked calmly toward Barnath.

F'lar turned back to the scene before them. People were huddled at the back of the kitchen, watching fearfully, but growing brave enough to inch their way forward. One woman was being forcibly restrained by an Istan rider. She cursed like a grizzled beast drudge.

_F'lar, we need healers. Dragon and human._

_I'll find them._

He turned to Masterharper Sebell. "My Lady asks that I find healers."

Several other riders, from other weyrs, passed by and made their way to the kitchen area.

"I suppose we've observed all we can from here. Time to seek a new vantage point." Sebell patted F'lar's hand which had served as an appreciated support.

"Exactly." F'lar smiled at the harper; they both apparently felt a tad guilty for standing idle in their shock.

Sebell started to move and stopped. "Will you ask one of the harpers to come in here, please? Barnath, at the very least, should be included in the sketches."

F'lar nodded firmly. "At the very least."

He took a deep breath and turned to see that his weyrwoman was successfully calming bronze Barnath. He turned again and strode toward the bowl.

Gold Caylith lay stretched out blocking most of the entrance as healers and riders gently cleaned and oiled her; she appeared to have been severely neglected. Ramoth peered at the Benden weyrleader from over the Istan queen's back, crooning soothingly for Caylith. She blinked all three eyelids as he smiled at her.

People were converging near the other side of the entrance, trying to see what was happening inside. Weyrleaders from Telgar, High Reaches and Igen held them back, maintaining a clear path, while diplomatically soothing bruised egos of Holders who felt they had a right to enter.

F'lar found a Journeyman Healer tending Caylith. "Barnath's been injured. And Weyrwoman Lessa requests human healers as well." When the man nodded, he added "And, find a healer from Fort Hold; one of the Masterharper's people has been injured." Another considered nod convinced F'lar that the journeyman understood the sensitivity of the situation.

Even as F'lar spoke with the healer, questions flew from the other side of the path. "What happened in there?" "Who got the gold?" "What's going on?" As he turned around, those questions became louder and more demanding.

F'lar sternly held a finger up to his lips, signaling a demand for quiet. The crowd took notice and lowered their volume, but kept on with the questions. F'lar waved an arm in a 'come with me' motion and turned toward Reyuth.

Shouting near Caylith drew his and everyone else's attention. Weyrwoman Cosira, held by two bronze riders from Ista, was screaming obscenities at healers, riders, and even her gold dragon. F'lar moved to question her, but Igen's weyrleader slapped him on the back. "I'll handle this" he said as he marched to intercept Cosira.

F'lar, along with the rest of the crowd, watched in near silence as the Igen weyrleader tried to console Cosira, telling her that Caylith was fine and being tended well.

"I want her dead! Don't you understand? I want that beast dead!" The entire crowd gasped as one. Igen's weyrleader backed away as if she were Thread itself. F'lar moved forward.

"Weyrwoman Cosira is obviously quite ill." He spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, and then spoke to the bronze riders at her side. "Please take your weyrwoman to her rooms for some rest."

"Excuse me. Please let me through." A rather gruff voice rose above the whispers in the crowd. "Make way, please!" As the man emerged from the crowd, he directed his words to the Benden Weyrleader. "A moment, Weyrleader F'lar!"

The older, grizzled and haggard bronze rider approached F'lar quickly. He bowed his head slightly before nearly whispering. "These two are Toric's sons." He indicated the bronze riders at Cosira's side, and spoke a little louder now. "If I may suggest, sir . . ." He paused, waiting for permission from his acknowledged superior.

"And who are you, bronze rider?" F'lar was sure he recognized the man from Pokey's drawings, but wanted him to identify himself for the onlookers.

"A'mos, rider of Bronze Grindeth, and weyrlingmaster, Weyrleader F'lar."

"A'mos. I've heard of you!" The man looked betrayed. "Best weyrlingmaster Ista Weyr's ever had!"

Obvious relief showed as A'mos bowed his head humbly. "That is certainly debatable in recent years, Weyrleader."

F'lar clapped a hand onto the bronze rider's shoulder, leading him nearer Cosira, and spoke for his ears only. "You must have the patience of a rock, A'mos."

Ista's weyrlingmaster chuckled. "This rock is very nearly dust from the force of this stream, sir."

"This stream is being diverted." They both chuckled. "Where is your weyrleader?"

"In his weyr, unconscious. D'ram and Masterhealer Oldive are with him. One of Fort's riders just left with blood samples for Healer Hall at Landing."

F'lar nodded appreciatively. This man was well informed. Now he spoke loud enough for all nearby to hear. "I'll leave your weyrwoman in your capable hands, Weyrlingmaster A'mos."

F'lar, and everyone else, watched as Cosira grabbed A'mos' tunic. "She needs to die, A'mos!"

"I understand, My Lady." He took her gently by the arms, pulled her under one of his and turned her to the other side of the bowl. "Leave us" he ordered the bronze riders. "Let's go talk about it, My Lady."

Cosira seemed to calm down in A'mos' presence. After leaving the newly diverted crowd, A'mos waved at two of the older Istan riders. He had them escort their weyrwoman to her weyr. They were asked to keep her safe, and ordered to search her weyr for any food or drink, which was to be destroyed. A'mos would arrange for safe refreshments to be brought to them later.

Weyrleader F'lar managed two more steps toward Reyuth before being grabbed by the arm. He turned back quickly, putting on a show of indignation, to face Lord Holder Kashman.

"Where's my daughter, F'lar?" He appeared genuinely concerned, which, at least partly, explained some of his rudeness. "You said you'd take care of her!"

"She's in the dining hall with young queen Saraneth. Your daughter, Lord Kashman," F'lar put hands on the Lord's shoulders, "is now a junior weyrwoman!" 'Faranth help us all' he thought to himself, remembering the spoiled child on his own hatching grounds.

Kashman's eyes went wide; he puffed up with pride and actually smiled before turning and nearly running back to the living cavern.

Igen's weyrleader caught the Lord Holder and slowed him down. He would not be allowed into the kitchen area until after the queen's first feeding.

F'lar finally had a clear path to bronze Reyuth.

_Mnementh, will you ask Reyuth if I may sit on his back for a little while?_

After a brief pause, bronze Mnementh answered. _Reyuth says he would be honored. You won't be flying, will you?_

_No, my friend. I only fly with you!_

The lithe weyrleader climbed Reyuth's side with ease and notified the harpers that one of them should go to the kitchen. After a short discussion, and quite a few finishing strokes, the apprentice folded his pad closed and allowed F'lar to help him down. He walked very quickly to the kitchen to find the Masterharper.

F'lar took a normal riding position on the big bronzes back and raised his arms to signal silence. From this position, he could see everything inside Ista Weyr's bowl. Near Caylith, several of Pern's weyrwomen had circled A'mos. The poor man was nodding respectfully as he was apparently being inundated with questions, or more likely instructions.

Someone had set up a large canopy with a large number of chairs underneath in the shade. Toric's men and Ista's weyrfolk were being moved to this area and were being held there by riders from all the weyrs.

A smaller canopy had been set up over the injured man near the hatching ground entrance. Brekke and several healers tended the man as F'nor and another rider kept observers away.

Another large canopy protected Ista's newest weyrlings from the rising sun as they continued feeding their new life partners. L'ret and other riders assisted the weyrlings.

When the crowd around Reyuth continued talking loudly among themselves, F'lar asked the bronze to please get their attention.

A loud, but non-threatening bugle aimed at the sky had the desired effect. All eyes turned to the dragon, some turned to Benden's Weyrleader, and all mouths remained closed.

Reyuth perched his muzzle close to the ground in such a manner that he could easily swivel his long neck in any direction. He gave the impression he was observing and protecting, thus keeping the crowd at a more comfortable distance.

"Ladies, Lords, Masters, Riders and citizens of Pern. This has been a truly horrific morning, but all danger is past and it is now time to evaluate this situation.

"You were all asked here this day to act as witnesses to the worst attempted usurpation of power since the good Lord Holder Fax's attempt before the start of this Pass. It would appear," he emphasized the last word, "that Lord Holder Toric has used his immense coercive abilities, and his fertility, to attempt a take-over of Ista Weyr, its riders and its dragons. It also appears," again he emphasized the last word, "that Lord Holder Toric believed the dragons of Pern could be trained to serve his interests.

"This attempt has been progressing for the last several years, but as you know, weyrs, just like holds and craft halls, are autonomous. We, the weyrleaders, do not step into another weyr's problems unless asked to do so." They didn't need to know about inter-weyr politics which have caused other, less public, take-overs.

"Who asked for your help here?" F'lar recognized the man as one of Toric's.

"Who asked for help is irrelevant. Harper Hall was asked just a few days ago to help Caylith's clutch, and contacted the Weyrs. The Weyrs, in turn, contacted the Holders and Masters to whom we are each beholden. This day's events would have been far more disastrous without Harper Hall's very quick dissemination of information."

A commotion on the ledge of the queen's weyr drew everyone's attention. Two riders held a man between them. Realizing they had everyone's attention, one of them addressed F'lar. "Look what we found in among our weyrwoman's gowns!"

"What is that, Rider?" F'lar grinned wickedly. This could be enjoyable!

"It wears the rank knots of a Lord Holder from Southern Hold!" The rider must have his own grudge to bear against the man he held.

"You know sharding well who I am, you imbeciles! Let me go! You have no right to treat a lord holder like this!"

"Identify yourself, Lord Holder" taunted F'lar.

"I am Lord Holder Toric and you have no right interfering in Ista Weyr's business, F'lar!"

"Nor do you, Toric!"

The crowd quickly became hostile toward Toric. "Southern needs a new Lord Holder!" "Exile him!" "Drop him between!" "Hang him!" "Feed him to the dragons!"

Toric seemed confused. F'lar wondered if he might actually be delusional enough to believe his fellow holders would support his actions.

"The list of crimes against Lord Holder Toric is long. If we weyrleaders were to act on impulse, he would be escorted between for a very long visit." This elicited a bit of laughter.

Toric became furious. "Those beasts should be destroyed! That one," he looked toward Caylith "she killed my favorite daughter!"

"What's your favorite daughter's name?" A'mos spoke loudly over the crowd's murmuring.

"Gridella. That beast killed my Gridella! Kill it!"

A'mos turned toward the crowd. "She told me her name was Zindera!"

"They're twins!" Toric's desperation was beginning to amuse the crowd.

"She told me she was her dam's only child!"

Lord Holder Groghe spoke up. "Gridella or Zindera; a twin or an only child. The queen did kill the poor girl."

A'mos faced Groghe with respectful determination and spoke loud enough for all to hear. "Caylith was acting in the interest of her daughter, without the controlling support of her incapacitated human rider. She is not to blame for her actions!"

"Incapacitated? Or wine befuddled?" F'lar wasn't sure who the source of those questions was.

"She was drugged!" The crowd fell silent. Lord Lytol stood on the nearby weyrleader's ledge with Masterhealer Oldive at his side.

"Masterhealer Oldive believes that both weyrleaders have been systematically drugged over the course of the last few months. That would incapacitate Weyrwoman Cosira enough that she would appear wine headed, and be unable to influence her dragon's actions. Caylith is not to blame for instinctively protecting her hatchlings. The same drug, in a larger dose, seems to have rendered Weyrleader G'dened unconscious."

The crowd became incredulous. "What kind of drug?" "Why?" "How were they drugged?" "How did Toric manage that?" "How dare he?" "Will they recover?"

Masterhealer Oldive held up his hands. The crowd responded slowly, but finally quieted to hear what he could tell them. "Good people, we don't know what Ista's weyrleaders were drugged or poisoned with. We only know that the wine in the weyrleader's room smells and tastes very odd. And that his symptoms are indicative of long term poisoning. Samples of the wine and the weyrleader's blood have been sent to Landing for analysis on the Ancient's recently recovered testing equipment. As far as recovery? Only time will tell."

"He poisoned the weyrleaders?" "How dare he?" "He sent me some wine. It smelled odd!" "Give him some of that wine!" "Hang him!" "Take him between!"

Benden's weyrleader bellowed over the ruckus. "Unfortunately," F'lar waited for near silence "dropping Toric between now would not serve the best interests of Pern, and dragonriders are all sworn to serve Pern!

"We need information! We need to know what Toric had planned, and we need to know where else on Pern he has stretched his greedy fingers! To that end, each and every single person working or living at Ista Weyr will be questioned prior to being allowed to resume work or leave. And we ask that each of you prepare a written statement of what you have seen this day, and anything else you may know of Toric and his activities. We need information to keep this sort of atrocity from ever happening again."

Masterharper Sebell found his way through the crowd. On reaching Reyuth's comfort zone, he bowed formally. "Good day, Bronze Reyuth. May I approach?"

Reyuth respectfully pulled his muzzle in toward his body in a fair approximation of a nod as he eyed the Masterharper.

The Masterharper took a position near the bronze dragon's shoulder. Reyuth swung his neck once in front of the harper to remind the crowd of his boundaries and them moved his head to one side, and craned his neck to watch the Masterharper.

"Landing has a large group of young people engaged in researching the Ancients methods of executing justice. We at Harper Hall, and the weyrleaders of Pern, would like to allow those young people to exercise their knowledge in this case. With your permission, we would like to invite some of those young people to Ista Weyr this day to begin interviewing all persons involved in this debacle."

Most holders and masters were aware of all the various research projects being conducted at Landing, and most approved the re-emergence of the Legist profession. Pern's population was growing, and would likely continue to grow after Thread ceased to fall. Common laws and practices were already being discussed, though only to a limited extent thus far.

The holders, masters and some of the riders all seemed to approve of The Masterharper's suggestion.

While Sebell fielded more questions, F'lar noticed some of the younger Istan riders, all begotten of Toric, congregating away from the crowd. They were obviously fearful of being questioned. He caught the eye of Telgar's weyrleader and pointed out the group. He then bespoke Mnementh, asking him to ask Ramoth to prevent any dragons from leaving the Weyr.

He also noticed more canopies being erected with tables and chairs underneath. Telepathically, he asked Lessa if Ista was prepared to feed this large a crowd.

It was determined that Toric and his people would be detained at Ista Weyr until all questioning had been conducted. Weyrlingmaster A'mos informed the group that Ista had plenty of storerooms, with locks, that could be easily converted to accommodate their 'guests'. And he had the perfect room for the Southern Lord Holder down near the weyrling barracks; it had accommodated three drudges the night before, so would surely suffice for one man.

Lord Holder Toric was led, and sometimes dragged, by three burly dragonriders to the other end of the bowl. His loud protests at his treatment could be heard even as he was led into the barracks, but quieted shortly thereafter. No one wondered why, at least not out loud.

When asked who would lead Ista Weyr until Weyrleader G'dened recovered, if he did, Pern's other weyrleaders all came together as a group and spoke quietly for a very short time. All agreed that Weyrlingmaster A'mos was even now showing remarkable leadership abilities, but all agreed that he should not be singled out just yet.

F'lar spoke for the other weyrleaders. "That has yet to be decided, but at least one representative from each of the other weyrs will remain at Ista until proper leadership is restored."

"Will we be protected from Thread?" Ista's Lord Holder had noticed how many of the younger riders were separating themselves.

Igen's weyrleader responded. "All the other weyrs have vowed to assist Ista if necessary."

"What's to become of Southern Hold?" Fort's Lord Holder asked the question all the holders were hesitant to ask; arguments were bound to re-elevate the tension of this day.

"That," Sebell smiled as if he'd been waiting for this question, "is an issue to be discussed under far less stressful conditions." He held up a hand to block the bright sun now streaming over Ista's peaks. "But," he paused for effect, "I believe that Lord Lytol of Landing has a proposal for all of you."

"It is getting hot!" High Reaches Lord Holder had long ago removed his jacket and was now flapping the front of his tunic. Other northern holders and masters had also over dressed for Ista's summer sun.

As dragons began landing and unloading sacks of food, Masterharper Sebell suggested they all retreat from 'Ista's oven'.

"Wait a bit. Who impressed the little queen?"came from someone closest to the canopies.

Weyrleader F'lar had been receiving bits of information from Lessa and now hoped he had his facts all straight. "Brendeen, of Keroon Hold, daughter of Lord Holder Kashman, impressed the queen, Saraneth." This elicited a few jeers from the crowd. "Obviously, there is more to young Brendeen than any of us has seen.

"Calloreen, of Southern's Little River Hold, daughter of the late Lord Holder Baldaron, has impressed green Mynth, and Mara, late of Keroon, most recently of Benden Weyr, has impressed brown Klamath."

"Isn't Mara a girl?"

"Mara is a woman of thirty-one turns, whose bronze rider weyrmate will likely be quite surprised when he learns of this day's events."

"Browns don't impress girls!" "There's something wrong with that one." "He should be destroyed."

Dragons around the weyr become agitated, causing the crowd to quiet again.

"Browns have not historically chosen females, but the dragon healers have found nothing wrong with Klamath. This day's confusion may have had something to do with his choice – we don't know. But, dragonriders respect and honor the choice of dragons. Klamath chose Mara, and we will honor that choice!"

A few strong cheers of "Here, here" erupted from the dragonriders still in the crowd. Weyrlingmasters A'mos and L'ret were loudest among them. F'lar wondered how this would be accepted by non-riders. He also realized that bad matches had occurred in the past – only time would tell.

No one asked about the second little green, now understanding why the dragons had mourned yet again after Barnath entered the living cavern.

Sebell broke the brief mourning silence. He motioned toward the shaded tables. "Now, please, let's make the remainder of this day a joyful one to be remembered fondly by Pern's newest dragonriders and their magnificent little dragons." Not many non-riders actually knew how short a dragon's memory was, but Sebell did, and he knew that if a memory bothered a rider, it would also bother the rider's dragon.

Everyone began moving to the shade of the canopies, northerners in the lead.

Weyrleaders and the Masterharper stayed behind to discuss further arrangements. Weyrwomen, including Lessa, soon joined their mates.

The journeyman harper sitting atop Reyuth reluctantly accepted assistance in dismounting, but only after quickly finishing his most recent sketch. Reyuth was excused to take a swim in Big Bay and find a ridge to nap.

It was quickly decided that Monoco Bay Weyr would bring Landing's young legists, and Southern Weyr would help determine who among the weyrfolk should be 'interviewed' first. Fort and Igen Weyrs would bring harpers proficient in note-taking and diplomacy. High Reaches and Telgar Weyrs would bring ice from the northern glaciers, and containers to hold it, to keep food and people cool. Benden Weyr, already having their hands full, joked the other weyrleaders, would help where ever needed.

Each of the weyrwomen would send for any extra weyrfolk to assist Ista until they could be re-staffed, either with people forced to leave earlier or with new people. They would also send junior weyrwomen, as needed, to make sure Ista's junior weyrwomen were properly trained to run the weyr until Cosira recovered, or was replaced.

As the weyrleaders approached the canopies, they were directed first to a couple of tables holding the meals prepared elsewhere and drinks. Each was informed that there were no drudges this day, so they would have to help themselves if they needed anything more.

Holders all sat at one long table, everyone else mixed among the remaining tables. Riders not engaged elsewhere ate quickly and moved on to relieve other riders. Some took food and drink to the holding area.

Once all the Lord Holders had seated themselves, Lytol was asked to state his proposal. Several harpers quickly moved to chairs nearby to take notes on the proposal and responses. Sebell joined Lytol at one end of the table, but took a seat. The Benden Weyrleaders sat nearby to listen.

Lytol first reminded the Lord Holders that most of them had children studying at Landing. The brightest of them were researching the Charter's purpose and intent. To determine intent, many were also studying Earth's history and discovering why Pern's original settlers chose to leave. Some forward sighted students were focusing on Earth's various government structures to determine which might be most appropriate for Pern's use after Thread stopped falling.

Before any discussion could begin, Lytol quickly reminded the holders that in previous intervals, Pern's current government (Holders) had experienced quite a bit of trouble when people believed they no longer needed a Lord Holder's protection. He asked them to imagine the troubles that would arise when the return of Thread was no longer a threat.

He then informed them that these students had developed several theoretical structures that they believed could best serve all of Pern while adhering to the original Charter. Lytol, Masterharper Sebell, and quite a few other people at Landing believed that Southern Hold could be used as an experiment to test the student's theories, under supervision of course.

The student's theories all had one thing in common; governance would be by committee of one sort or another. Lytol deferred from discussing the actual theories, stating that the students were already preparing presentations to fully detail each plan.

Most of the Lord Holders seemed rather relieved at the prospect of a committee running Southern Hold. They realized that their brightest children could all participate in keeping the hold viable. Perhaps this approach could even reduce some of the sibling rivalry in their own holds.

As 'what if' questions began to surface, Lytol suggested that a formal presentation by the students might be advantageous to all concerned. After a great deal of discussion involving the Lord Holders, Masters and all of the Weyrleaders, a date and time was set for a four hour presentation.

Until that time, though, it was decided that each major Lord Holder would send one of their most proficient prospective holder offspring or siblings to Southern to 'assist' in its governance. There was some almost heated discussion about who at Southern would have the final word if necessary. At Masterharper Sebell's suggestion, all agreed that Lord Lytol had served Ruatha well and would be best qualified to serve Southern's interests while protecting the remainder of Pern as well.

Lytol was not pleased with the Masterharper's suggestion; that was obvious from the working of his jaw and the coloring of his face. But, he did not refuse.

The remainder of the morning was spent in mostly friendly, light-hearted discussions. Harpers quickly squelched any potential arguments with reminders that such contentious issues could be discussed later.

New weyrlings made the rounds of the tables, some with their new life-mates, and were all treated to great shows of respect and pride.

The 'kitchen weyrlings' did not make the usual visit to the celebratory tables. Calloreen only knew a few of the weyrfolk who were now being detained. T'men and Lessa were keeping Mara busy with small talk trying to calm her down after the morning's events.

Brendeen, after feeding Saraneth and seeing her comfortably napping, went to Pokey's side. She sat on the floor next to his mattress, sometimes whispering into his ear, until she was seen yawning. She then reluctantly spoke with her father for a few minutes before a healer demanded that she eat something and get some rest.

When all three weyrlings were sleeping, most everyone left the living cavern. Only a healer and one rider remained.

F'lar and Lessa were both thrilled to see the Lord Holders of Pern discussing the upcoming presentation by the history and government students at Landing. Some argued good naturedly about whose brilliant child would be leading the group. As they pieced together some of the bits they had each allowed their children to speak about in the past, they became more and more curious. Some seemed rather embarrassed at not allowing their children to speak more about their studies. A few, though, still believed that After should be dealt with After; they had far too much to worry about right now. But all seemed interested in seeing the presentation.

Lord Lytol was truly humbled by Sebell's recommendation that he oversee Southern Hold, but also a bit annoyed that he would now have less time to help the students prepare their now extremely important presentation. F'lar reminded him that they were Pern's future and would eventually have to find a way to confront their elders with their ideas. Lytol had arranged for an unprecedented opportunity; now the students would have to make the best of that opportunity.

When the Benden weyrleaders approached Pern's other weyrleaders, they found A'mos at the center. Each weyrleader was presenting to A'mos the rider they felt could help him with Ista Weyr until G'dened recovered. A'mos repeatedly told the weyrleaders that he simply wasn't qualified. The weyrleaders each regaled him with their own versions of 'I wasn't qualified either, but I learned'.

A'mos finally admitted his worst fear, that of leading a squadron into battle with Thread; he just never quite understood all the strange wind currents around Ista. Igen's weyrleader calmed that fear when he reminded A'mos that the bronze rider he was leaving was also familiar with Ista's wind anomalies, and had led Igen's squadron over Ista on many occasions. All the weyrleaders agreed that A'mos should not be embarrassed to ask someone else to lead a Thread battle.

With that issue settled, Lessa asked A'mos where Ista's junior weyrwomen were on this day. A'mos shook his head. Gridella (not to be confused with Toric's favorite daughter, though she was one of Toric's brood) and Sansheena had been sent away early in the morning. Gridella was probably at Southern crying to her mother, and Sansheena was hopefully with her family in Nerat. Sansheena might be of some help in the weyr, but was still reeling from the disastrous loss of her queen's hatchlings just a seven-day ago. Neither had been properly trained by Cosira; their weyrwoman had started growing paranoid before either one of the juniors had even impressed. Lessa and the other weyrwomen talked briefly and decided to ask for a volunteer to temporarily transfer to Ista. A'mos was extremely grateful at the prospect of having a fully trained and proficient junior weyrwoman at Ista. Sansheena was bright and motivated, and would learn all she needed to know. And would certainly enjoy having someone 'unspoiled' to talk with.

When F'nor joined the group, F'lar pulled him aside and asked if he was sure he was willing to stay at Ista. F'nor just grinned and said that Brekke was already taking stock of Ista's supplies, making lists, and contacting suppliers. She would pick out a weyr for them to stay in as soon as she could catch A'mos for a few minutes.

Masterhealer Oldive was enjoying a cool fruit drink with Bronze Rider D'ram. They informed Benden's weyrleaders that G'dened was already returning from between. He must have been given very frequent doses of that drugged wine; water seemed to be clearing it out of his body rather quickly. Oldive, however, would make no predictions as to his mental state.

The Masterhealer grimaced sourly when asked about the man Barnath had injured. Oldive had been told in no uncertain terms that the man did not want any help from 'that abomination Aivas'. So Oldive would have him moved to Fort Healer Hall. Arrangements were being made to have him transported by ship, as going between on a dragon might kill him. Without Aivas' technological help, the man would likely never walk without crutches or, at the very least canes, but he would live, and the students at Healer Hall always appreciated practice cases.

F'lar and Lessa eventually made their way to the weyrling barracks. Some of the new weyrlings were waking up, probably due to the obnoxious chatter of the weyrlings from last seven-day's hatching.

Both Benden weyrleaders were appalled at the condition of the older hatchlings. F'lar questioned the apparent leader of Toric's wherry-brained flock.

The tall boy had been trained well to share Toric's disgust of all things non-Southern, including any high and mighty dragonriders. He seemed rather surprised when 'the old man from Benden' slammed him back against a wall and held him firmly as he explained some of the most basic rules of dragonrider etiquette.

F'lar ordered all the older weyrlings outside to clean and oil their dragons. He very nearly lost control at all the moaning and groaning. The leader earned another slam against the wall when he complained that they had all been cleaned and oiled just yesterday by that big ugly drudge and her stupid sidekicks. F'lar explained, none too patiently, that dragons this age needed oiling every single day, sometimes twice a day. He went on to explain that if these weyrlings did not learn to properly care for their dragons themselves, they would very likely lose those dragons and what was left of their minimal minds.

As most of the older dragonets were led out of the barracks, Lessa remained sitting with a small green. Her rider was nowhere to be seen. Lessa informed F'lar that Breaminth's rider had shut off any connection they might have had at impression; she would not survive for much longer. After a brief telepathic conversation, the Benden weyrleaders agreed that this little green should not be allowed to suffer any more.

F'lar and Lessa led Breaminth outside and to the lake. Word spread quickly through Ramoth and Mnementh, and shortly, the little green was being lavished with loving attention from riders from all the weyrs. She was scrubbed clean with the help of quite a few fire lizards, and then oiled till her grayish green hide shined.

The boy who had impressed Breaminth lounged against a wall and watched with only mild interest. F'lar finally approached him. He learned that the boy never wanted any dragon, much less a stupid little green one. F'lar could only glare at the ignorant fool.

A tarp was laid out for Breaminth to settle onto. The corners were gathered in such a way that she would experience flying.

F'lar mounted Mnementh and other riders mounted their dragons. Mnementh took the gathered corners of the tarp into his forepaws.

F'lar noticed the boy still lounging on the wall turn his head away.

Mnementh rose onto his haunches, testing his hold on the tarp, spread his wings, and lunged into the air. Other dragons followed.

Mnementh flew out over Big Bay, and then made a pass into the bowl on the bay side and out above the peaks on the other end.

Breaminth's little head hung over the edge of the tarp; not even flying sparked any interest in continuing her lonely life.

The procession of dragons, Mnementh in the lead, banked back out over Big Bay, gaining altitude as they flew.

They disappeared for a few moments and then reappeared, flying in the opposite direction. Mnementh was no longer carrying the tarp.

All the dragons and fire lizards at Ista Weyr began yet another high pitched mourning wail.

TO BE CONTINUED

* * *

What do you do when a chapter gets way, way too long?

TO BE CONTINUED

Sorry.


	24. Celebration? at Ista Weyr

Disclaimer: I don't own Pern, but my characters do live and play there.

A/N: Umm, more angst.

* * *

Breaminth's chosen one held his head in clawing hands; apparently there had still been some connection between the two. His clutch mates quickly surrounded him, not sure if he was reacting to the dragon's mourning noise, or something else.

All of Toric's brood stared in fearful shock as Benden's Weyrleader landed less than a dragon's length from them.

F'lar didn't need to yell; he had their full attention. "I'll be back here in seven days. If any of your dragons look like she did, they will be next." He motioned for Lessa to join him on Mnementh's back, and when she was secure, they all flew to the other end of the bowl.

"The boy, F'lar?" Lessa had waited until they landed near Ramoth.

"I don't care! He's not one of us. Never was." He didn't look at her, working to maintain a controlled neutral expression.

Lessa lovingly stroked the arm holding her tighter than was necessary. She squeezed his hand before lifting a leg over to begin her slide to the ground.

F'lar remained on Mnementh's back for a few minutes, surveying the scene before him.

Rukbat was nearly straight overhead, leaving nothing within the bowl shadowed. Only the canopies provided any shade. Most of the visitors had long since returned to their own holds. Those who would jointly 'hold' Southern were asked to meet first at Ista Weyr. They now joined the few holders who stayed to learn more about the committee approach proposed by Lord Lytol.

Conversation at the tables seemed quite subdued. Few people looked in F'lar's direction, for which he was grateful.

Young people from Landing and harpers of all rank proceeded with interviewing each of the weyrfolk. A good number of these people were here against their wishes, having no interest in dragons or dragon's weyrs. Southern Weyr riders provided transportation for those wishing to return home. Those who cooperated and were willing to return to work were sent to help Brekke. Those who were known to have been Toric's closest allies, or who refused to cooperate, were taken to Ista Weyr's newly redecorated 'guest rooms'.

Caylith was awake now, and looked better than earlier, though far from the standards of Pern's other queen dragons. She and Ramoth seemed to be involved in an intense conversation. Brendeen, with Calloreen beside her, stood at Caylith's shoulder and both stroked the queen.

Lessa joined them and soon turned back toward her weyrmate. F'lar nodded; there was still work to be done this day. He patted Mnementh lovingly before dismounting. He stroked the bronzes neck and briefly rested his forehead between his life-mate's large, just closed eyes before walking toward the queens, forcing a smile.

Weyrwoman Lessa informed her weyrmate that queen Caylith had requested Saraneth and Brendeen be trained at Benden Weyr, with the understanding they would return to Ista Weyr prior to their first mating flight. Ramoth had agreed; there were still only two adult junior queens at Benden, and surely one of them would wish to transfer prior to Biradeth and Tianna coming of age. Lessa also approved, so F'lar nodded, and walked into the living cavern, where it would be quiet and he shouldn't be inundated with questions.

The living cavern was much calmer and quieter than when F'lar left hours earlier.

The kitchen area had been cleared of Ista's weyrfolk. A few people wearing shoulder knots from other weyrs were cleaning or preparing bread, meat, and vegetables for a later meal. The meat cutting table had been cleared and cleaned.

Pokey and a Fort healer were well concealed from casual observers back behind the weyrleaders raised table. The little 'drudge' hadn't moved since being placed there hours ago. Bista though, had taken up residence inside the man's fetal curl near his face. She poked her head up just far enough and long enough to see F'lar before returning to her watch position.

Barnath, awake now, rested near the passageway to the other caverns, watching three peacefully sleeping little dragons.

Mara was the only weyrling still sleeping, and T'men had a hand on her shoulder. F'lar wondered how long this woman would need so much coddling, and quickly scolded himself for such self indulgent, petty jealousy; reluctantly, he admitted to himself that he could certainly stand just a bit of coddling after this day.

As Lessa walked past him and picked up two chairs, F'lar moved behind her and snatched them from her hands. When she turned, he gave his personal coddler a slightly challenging, but understanding and loving smile; the strain on her face suggested that she, too, could use a bit of coddling this day.

Lessa directed F'lar to set the chairs near T'men's. The bronze rider's head rested at an awkward angle on the arm cushioning the chair-back he straddled.

After sitting quietly, F'lar put an arm around his weyrmate and pulled her close. A barely audible sniff motivated him to put his other arm on the small one across his waist. He rested his chin lightly on her head as they both watched the peaceful rise and fall of the little brown's side.

"He really is a beautiful brown." Lessa looked up at F'lar as if pleading Klamath's case.

F'lar grinned. "I wouldn't know, the way she's wrapped up so tight around him."

Masterharper Sebell set a chair down on T'men's other side. He put a gentle hand on the bronze rider's shoulder to rouse him. After T'men worked the kinks out of his neck, Sebell spoke quietly near his ear. "Have you been here all morning?" The rider's blue eyes smiled as the blond head moved side to side. "Then how about telling us what you've learned this day."

T'men lifted his hand from Mara's shoulder and waited to see if she stirred. When she didn't, he turned around in his chair to face the other three.

The wingleader told his weyrleaders and the Masterharper about the Istan rider's concern that they, too, had been drugged to some extent. Several had asked Masterhealer Oldive to have their blood tested. T'men suspected that they needed to find some outside cause for their embarrassing actions, or inactions.

He had spoken with both weyrlingmasters and they both believed that Mara and Calloreen should remain with their clutch-mates at Ista for their training.

He also told them about his talks with Calloreen and Brendeen after they woke. "Are you aware that Calloreen has seen only eleven turns?"

Both weyrleader's eyes closed at that news. F'lar's chin dropped to his chest as Lessa took a very deep breath and released it slowly. It was preferred that candidates were at least close to sexual maturity prior to impression; Calloreen would need special care, handling and teaching prior to green Mynth's rising less than a turn from now.

"Both L'ret and A'mos are convinced that Mara will willingly 'protect her innocence' until the appropriate time." That brought concerned smiles to the weyrleader's faces; a brown rider protecting a young green rider could be seen as risky, but an older woman rider protecting a younger girl rider should appease Pern's 'guardians of morality'. So, how would Pern see Mara?

"Are you aware that Brendeen hears dragons?" Lessa's eyes widened. "At the meat cutting table, she reacted almost as badly as Mara to what was happening. And she's confirmed it; she claims lots of her friends used to hear dragons, but the others lost that ability."

"That's not possible." Lessa seemed almost desperate for T'men to retract his last statement.

"No?" T'men studied Lessa's face, hoping he wasn't about to overstep some boundary. "Consider that humans have been on Pern for over twenty-five hundred turns. Isn't it possible that humans, like our dragons and the fire-lizards, might be evolving to meet the demands of our environment?"

Sebell added an observation. "I've heard more and more concerns in recent turns from parents who say their children claim to hear dragons. They hate to discourage their children, but don't want to encourage fantasies, either. Perhaps, it's time to re-evaluate our standard answer. And, evolution might also explain why we learned telepathy so easily, and young people and dragons learn telekinesis so easily."

"But," began F'lar. He was interrupted when F'nor put hands on his shoulders.

"Should we be watching this?" F'nor sounded rather disgusted.

All turned to see Mara scratching a hip, obviously unaware she had an audience.

Mara woke to the most horrible itching she had ever experienced. Everything itched. She reached up to scratch the back of her neck and then tried to reach further down her back. Startled by the sensation, she rolled to her back and part-way onto the floor. She opened her eyes, and found five people laughing or giggling or grimacing at her.

"What!" A small brown dragon head snaked over her and rested on her chest. "Oh," she said to the orange swirling eye closest to her, "you itch, don't you?"

F'nor pointed an accusing finger at the big woman. "I knew you were trouble the first time I saw you, girl!"

The little brown head stretched further over Mara, opened its mouth and hissed up at Wingleader F'nor.

Mara caught him before he managed to crawl over her. "It's all right, Klamath! He's just teasing." She turned doubtfully to F'nor. "I think."

When Klamath hissed again, F'nor put both hands into the air and smiled. "Just teasing, little one, honestly!"

Mara managed to extricate herself from underneath Klamath to the sound of laughter as five people moved four chairs away from the mattress. Proper introductions were made as she applied oil to the worst itches on the brown's already stretching hide.

When Klamath hissed again at F'nor for some remark that annoyed his life-mate, Mara bit her lips. Lessa laughed and explained to F'nor. "He said he's just teasing, big man."

F'nor chuckled as he squatted in front of Klamath. "So, you're a fast learner, huh?" He reached out a hand carefully.

The little brown batted at the offered hand with his muzzle, but then stretched to place his head under the same hand. The brown rider smiled as he rubbed Klamath's head knobs with his knuckles, remembering when Canth had been so small.

After feeding Klamath just enough so he knew he wouldn't starve, Mara convinced him to let her 'visit' with Pokey. She sat cross-legged next to his mattress. As Klamath rested his head on one thigh, Bista stretched up from Pokey's other side to see who was visiting. On seeing Mara, she very quietly jumped over her dear friend to sit on the big woman's other thigh.

Mara could hear the harper's confused thoughts; he seemed to be arguing with himself about the justification for his actions. She listened until the argument ran full circle a few times and then laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Grumpy!" His internal spiraling argument ceased immediately. "I thought you were tougher than this!"

The healer, aghast at this woman's rudeness, was about to send her away when Pokey moved for the first time in the hours since the hatching had ended.

Pokey began to uncurl his body, causing his spine to pop a few times. _It's too early to be tough._

Klamath, seeing and hearing the man's movements, moved behind Mara and snaked his head over one shoulder.

_Too early, my arse. The sun's up!_

Pokey rolled onto his back and stared blankly at the woman. Bista moved to his chest and nuzzled his chin and lips.

Mara grinned. "Time for fun and games! Isn't it exciting?" She imitated the tone of his comments earlier this day.

Bista chirped once at his nose to punctuate Mara's question. She then stretched tall and scanned the room for any signs of Lessa.

Pokey's eyes widened as he noticed movement on Mara's shoulder. A slow, uncertain smile eased onto his face. _That is the biggest fire-lizard I have ever seen._

"His name is Klamath." Mara grinned as the little brown crawled around and then over her lap to get closer to Pokey and Bista. "He likes your smile."

Pokey rubbed the little brown head much as he often did Bista's but with his whole hand instead of a finger. _Klamath is brown, Mara._

Mara nodded her head definitively, once. _Yup._ She ran a hand over Klamath's side. _With a bit of bronze along here. See?_ Pokey didn't appear to be convinced. _Sunlight will make it easier to see._

She stood with only a couple of bone pops, extended one arm to Pokey and placed her other hand on Klamath's neck. "Are you coming? We still have work to do."

Pokey/Mekelroy still seemed dazed. Mara could hear his fears of having seriously damaged any rapport he had ever had with dragonriders. _Are you coming, Master Harper?_

Pokey tilted his head and graced her with a heartfelt grin. Surprised gasps could be heard around them as he gripped her arm near the elbow allowing her to grip his in the same manner. When she pulled him to a standing position, he just shook his head at her. One tear escaped before he wiped his face with the sleeve on his other arm.

Masterharper Sebell and Wingleader T'men quickly took positions to support the fellis-headed, shorter man. Pokey frowned up at T'men, still unsure how his actions would be interpreted.

"Good man, Pokey!" T'men slapped him on the back as he smiled and nodded, confirming his acceptance of the harper's decision.

Klamath let out a little bellow. _Now, will you finish feeding me? And I itch!_

"I really need to take better care of my little brown darling!" Mara apologetically backed away from Pokey. "It's good to see you back with us, Pokey." When he grinned again, she made her way around the tables toward the exit.

T'men spoke to Sebell. "I should go with her."

The Masterharper nodded. T'men's duties this day were centered on observing Mara. And she would now have need of T'men's dragonrider experience, his harper training, and the friendship they seem to have developed.

T'men caught up with Mara and Klamath at Mynth's mattress. The little green had apparently just woken up and was loudly proclaiming her hunger and itchiness. Calloreen was frantic, but Mara calmed them both, telling them that there was plenty of food and oil down at the weyrling barracks.

The bronze rider wondered who had told her she would be staying at Ista, and then he wondered if she was still hearing people's thoughts. A somewhat frightened glance from Mara answered that question.

T'men followed the two weyrlings and their new life-mates toward the other end of the bowl. Calloreen seemed worried that she wouldn't be able to take proper care of Mynth.

"Why would Mynth choose someone who couldn't take care of her?" Mara's question was not at all unkind.

"Because she doesn't know any better?" Young Calloreen wasn't convinced.

"Dragons always know their perfect match, Calloreen."

"But, I'm too young to be a dragonrider."

"Who told you that?"

"I heard some people talking."

"Hold-bred people?"

"Uh huh."

Mara smiled at the girl. "Most hold-bred people just don't know that much about dragons."

"But, with all the confusion . . ." The girl had a little trouble with the last word; she was apparently repeating something she had heard.

"With all the confusion, Mynth could very well have found a suitable match closer to the Hatching Grounds, but she chose to walk all the way to the kitchen to find you, Calloreen!"

"Then, I'm not too young?"

"Mynth doesn't think so!"

"Then, why do people think so?"

"Hmm." Mara pretended to think really hard about this question. She leaned down closer to the girl. "Have you ever kissed a boy?"

Calloreen was so shocked, she stopped walking. "Eeww! No!"

T'men laughed so hard he nearly ran them over.

"I kissed a man!" Calloreen faced the bronze rider with hands on her small hips. "Lots of times!"

T'men dropped to one knee and turned very serious. "Oh, what a lucky man to be kissed by such a lovely young lady!"

Calloreen blushed at such a compliment and finally smiled at the handsome rider. "I kissed Papa every single day." Her sadness at the thought of him being gone was heartbreaking.

Mynth misunderstood the source of her mate's unhappiness and butted T'men's shoulder, causing him to fall to the ground.

Klamath turned to attack the man who made Mynth so angry. Mara stopped Klamath with a stern mental order to stop.

Calloreen grabbed and hugged Mynth. "He didn't make me sad, baby girl." She laughed at something Mynth said to her. "Yes, we can find some food now. We're almost there, see?"

T'men stood only after both dragonets were calmed down. He followed the two pairs and grinned at the protective instincts of the half-day old dragons; Mynth for Calloreen, and Klamath for Mynth.

"Well, maybe we should work harder at thinking only happy thoughts when our dragons are awake. What do you think, Calloreen?"

"That's a good idea. I'm not used to someone hearing what I think."

At the barracks, both little dragons were fed nearly to bursting with buckets of meat from the cold room. The next day, they were reminded, they would start cutting the meat for their own dragons.

They walked the short distance to the lake and began bathing. Most of the older weyrlings were also in the lake. Several assistants were helping them; all seemed much more interested in caring for their dragons.

T'men and several local fire-lizards helped to bathe Klamath and Mynth. T'men stripped out of most of his clothing, leaving only a lightweight loin cloth.

Calloreen appeared sun burnt almost immediately. Apparently, she had never seen a man in a loin cloth. She nearly fainted from embarrassment when Mynth nosed the front of T'men's meager covering. T'men only laughed and teased young Mynth about her curiosity, telling her that when she was older, she would learn more about what that cloth protected.

Calloreen seemed just as embarrassed at the sight of so many boys in lightweight, clinging wet, short trousers. Mara would quickly learn that Calloreen had been an only child in a remote area with very few other children nearby.

Both girls were fascinated with the amount of well-defined muscle that the tall, slender, bronze rider carried. Mara also noted a lack of tan lines and wondered if the man always bathed Reyuth in no more, or perhaps less, than a loin cloth.

T'men's lascivious wink confirmed what Mara heard from Klamath. The little brown had asked Reyuth the question on Mara's mind. The big woman blushed as she shrugged only partially apologetically. T'men laughed and she made a concerted effort to concentrate on her talkative little brown dragon.

Mara didn't need any help bathing Klamath, having helped the Benden Weyr weyrlings. Klamath thoroughly enjoyed his first experience in a lake. He splashed, and flapped his little wings, and slashed his head and tail through the water. At one point, when Mara dropped the brush she was using, he picked it up and began throwing it out of her reach. The two of them would then race to see who could reach it first, Mara being extra careful around his tiny, fragile wings.

Calloreen took full advantage of Wingleader T'men's help, asking questions, sometimes twice, and asking him to repeatedly demonstrate various scrubbing techniques.

T'men put on a good, but modest, show for the girl, knowing she wasn't watching his hands near as much as the rest of his body. He taught her a good lesson, though, when he stood back to watch her technique and let her catch him eying her in a similar manner.

Calloreen was so embarrassed, she sank into the water and swam to Mynth's other side. T'men, being the wonderful teacher Mara knew him to be, helped scrub Mynth's near side. He and the girl spoke quietly over the little green's back until Calloreen's embarrassment subsided. Afterwards, the girl was far more careful about where her eyes strayed, and no longer bothered by her lack of curves.

As the bathing was finished, T'men excused himself 'to find the necessary'. He took one of the towels and left the three girls and Klamath to dry off in the sun.

"He is soooo nice!" Calloreen watched as T'men strolled toward the barracks.

"He's smart too!" Mara smiled at the girl's obvious infatuation.

"Is he mated?"

Mara almost laughed, remembering her preoccupation at that young age. Calloreen wasn't too far from being a woman, she decided. "He's mated to Reyuth."

The girl finally turned toward Mara, confused. "I mean to a woman."

"Oh!" Mara thought for a moment. "I really don't know. I never asked him."

"Hmm." Calloreen turned back toward the barracks entrance, but T'men had disappeared.

"You know," began Mara "that a dragonrider's first love is always his or her dragon, don't you?"

"Even before people?"

"Uh huh." Mara watched Calloreen's puzzlement turn to shocked embarrassment.

"Oh, Mynth, you didn't!" She hugged the green's head close to her and buried her face in Mynth's neck.

Mara laughed gently at the girl. "And now you know that dragons all talk to each other. They have no secrets."

"So we have to be really careful what we think!"

"Mmm hmm!" Mara nodded her head emphatically, eyes comically wide to indicate that she, too, had been caught in the dragon's gossip.

Both girls laughed as they flapped their clothes to hurry the drying time. Both girls grinned as they watched Klamath and Mynth play a short game of tag. And both girls laughed again when they each, at the same time, reminded their dragons to not get dirty.

T'men returned in a nearly dry loin cloth to find the girls in no longer clingy tunics and trousers. He donned his trousers and all three began the oiling process.

Again, T'men helped Calloreen, who now showed far more interest in the necessary techniques than in the teacher. If she happened to look at T'men, she would blush and turn back as quickly as possible to Mynth.

Mynth, with Klamath along side, found a less dirty, still sunny patch of ground to lie on while oil soaked into their hides.

Reyuth glided down from somewhere above and lay down near the two younger dragons. The three of them seemed to be engaged in light draconic conversation as their humans took cleaning supplies back to the weyrling barracks.

T'men let the weyrlings carry their supplies, but did carry the damp towels draped over one arm and the remainder of his clothing with the other.

The girls excused themselves 'to find the necessary'. T'men did not, however, allow them enough time for a quick bath, telling them both that until their little dragons were old enough to be alone, they would have to arrange for their needs accordingly. 'It's all part of being a dragonrider', he explained. T'men, smiling to himself, then went outside to join the dragons.

"He likes you." Calloreen shared this observation as if it were a huge secret.

"We're friends!" Mara blushed slightly as she pushed Calloreen out into the sunlight.

"It's more than that."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is."

"No. It is not."

"Yes, it is."

Their banter continued until they were very near their napping dragons. T'men never noticed as he had dozed under Reyuth's outstretched wing. He did wake, though, when Calloreen gasped only an arm's length from his shady respite. He and Mara both looked at the girl and then followed her gaze to the dragons.

"Are you sure he's a brown?"

Light brown Klamath, with sunlight glistening off his freshly oiled hide, did indeed look a rather interesting shade of bronze. Mara grinned at T'men as he looked puzzled at her.

"Reyuth?"

_Klamath is brown, most of the time._

Mara's grin grew wider as she grew taller.

_Do not let that comment spread! Enough boys are upset that you impressed a brown. If they even suspect that he might be bronze, you will have far more trouble. Understood?_

Mara's grin turned to a slight frown, but quickly metamorphosed back to an even bigger grin. _Understood._

"You two are fun to watch." Calloreen was grinning at the two older people. "Mama and Papa used to do that." Her eyes went wide, and she turned quickly to the dragons. "Aren't they beautiful?"

Mara put hands on her small shoulders and leaned closer to her. "It's all right, Calloreen. We can talk about anything when they're asleep, as long as we don't get too upset."

The three humans sat in Reyuth's wing shade, Calloreen between the two adults. T'men and Mara listened intently as Calloreen told them about her parents and the lovely little hold they had shared. They soothed her when she cried at telling how they had died barely two seven-days ago. When she began to doze, Mara guided her head to her lap and stroked her curly blonde hair.

In her now relaxed sleep, the girl's leg stretched out and over T'men's lap. Mara found herself finally looking at T'men with uncontrollable tears rolling down her cheeks. _She's so young, T'men. How . . ._ She shook her head and closed her eyes at the mere thought of a twelve turn old mating.

_There are ways to handle it. And there's plenty of time to discuss it before then._

When Mara nodded acceptance, T'men gently held the girl's ankle with one hand and put his hand on her back. He shook her gently. "Hey, weyrling." His experience as a father became evident when Calloreen's leg jerked and her heel would have made contact with a very sensitive area.

Mara managed to wipe both tears and laughter from her face before Calloreen fully woke up. She smiled at the girl's apology to T'men when she found him still holding her ankle.

T'men eased her embarrassment by telling her, with a wink, how much he appreciated her leg keeping him from blowing away in the wind. By the time the three humans left the shade of Reyuth's wing, Calloreen was giggling like the child she should still be.

Both girls thanked the big bronze for his shade, after Mara verbally asked T'men's permission.

Three people woke and then walked two tiny, sleepy dragons into the weyrling barracks. After asking which areas they had been assigned, the girls settled their life-mates for a much needed, much longer nap.

T'men and Mara spoke quietly and in monotone about unimportant things until Calloreen also fell asleep.

"I would bet that you are just as tired as Calloreen."

"I am, but my mind is going in circles. If I try to sleep now, I might have bad dreams."

"Let's walk then."

T'men's harper smile and outstretched hand were both gratefully accepted. As they walked to the other end of the Weyr, T'men studied Mara as he had often done before. Her face was a constantly changing mask of emotion. _Do you still hear people?_

Mara closed her eyes, crossed her arms tightly, and hung her head as if ashamed. _I can't seem to block out the voices. I don't know what to do._ Tears flowed unchecked.

"Shhh." T'men stopped, turned her and put his hands on her shoulders. "It's all right." _First of all, don't tell anyone else about this. You know the difference between lying and avoiding the truth._

_Why?_

_A lot of people would get very, very nervous if they knew you could hear their thoughts. It would be . . . more comfortable for everyone if you don't share this._ When Mara nodded, he pulled her closer until her forehead rested on his shoulder.

"Hey! You know the rules, Bronze Rider!" Another rider walking from the weyrling barracks was adamant.

"I most certainly do, Rider, and I assure you that neither she nor her dragon are in any danger from me. She's had a busy and tiring day."

"Then she should be sleeping."

T'men smiled at the other rider. "She's afraid she'll have bad dreams."

The other rider nodded, understanding the weyrling's fear of frightening her young dragon out of sleep. "I'll be watching."

"Understood, Rider. A good cry and a little food should help her to sleep more soundly."

The other rider was considerate enough to back away a few paces, but made it quite obvious that he was observing carefully for any inappropriate behavior.

"This is embarrassing." Mara nearly choked trying to get a whisper past her now uncontrollable sobs.

T'men chuckled. "I don't know why. You have had a very busy and tiring and even frightening couple of days."

"But . . ."

"No buts; even I have felt some fear this day, and I'm not a girl." He smiled and squeezed her shoulders as her sobs tried to become laughter. "Shall we start walking before this rider gets sunburned?"

Now Mara laughed. She pushed away from the bronze rider with her crossed arms. "Thanks, T'men." She would have hugged him or kissed his cheek if she didn't hear a very loud throat clearing from behind.

T'men turned her toward the kitchen area and slapped a hand on her upper back. "Come on, weyrling. You need some food."

"Yes, sir."

_Maybe the voices will quiet once the stress of this day is gone._

_Oh, I hope so!_

The other rider followed not very discreetly all the way to the other end of the bowl. Mara soon found herself giggling at the thought of being chaperoned.

"How's G'raden doing?"

T'men sighed. "He'll be fine."

"Did that memory come out?"

"He's fighting it. G'regg and B'nor missed fall yesterday to stay with him. They only leave his weyr one at a time to get food and drink."

"I wish I could help him."

"We all do right now."

"When you see him, will you remind him, please, that memories are just history, and history can't be changed, and it's all a part of who we are?"

"I'll do that, Mara."

They reached the dining canopies and found Pokey flanked by Sebell and F'lar. Lessa was setting out a good selection of the distantly prepared food items and a skin each of wine and water. Pokey appeared rather embarrassed by all the attention, but in his drudge persona didn't say a word.

Once seated, drudge Pokey waited for everyone else to sit before digging into the food before him. Mara used this opportunity to give the man a big hug. She leaned down behind him, wrapped her arms around his chest and squeezed.

He patted her meaty arms, blushing and grinning. _That's enough, woman!_

_We're friends, and I was worried._ She kissed his cheek before letting loose, and then sat in the chair left for her next to her 'little friend'. She smiled adoringly as Pokey began eating slowly.

_You've been crying._

_It's been a very busy and tiring couple of days._

_That it has. Are you all right?_

_I'll be fine. Thank you for asking._

_The youngsters from Landing want to question us._

_Why? We were busy cutting meat. We didn't get to see much._

_Exactly! And that is all they will learn from either of us._

_Understood._

The Legist students from Landing did question the two 'loaned drudges' and learned very little. Mara answered all their questions, of course, but Pokey occasionally gave her hand signals while telepathically telling her what to say. Sebell stood back and marveled at how these two worked so well together after knowing each other for only a few days; even he had a hard time believing they hadn't known each other for many turns.

When the students asked why Pokey had fainted, Mara put a hand on the embarrassed man's back and explained. It had been so noisy and so scary; even she almost fainted when Barnath came through the entrance. Satisfied with their answers, the students thanked them both for their time and moved on to continue gathering information.

Walking back to their table, Mara suddenly felt a sharp pain in her side. She nearly doubled over and let out a startled "Ooww!"

Sebell and Pokey both held her up. "What's wrong?" Sebell noticed the glazed look in her eyes.

"Someone's trying to wake up Klamath." She winced again. "With something sharp!" She turned to face Pokey. "I gotta go!"

T'men had been nearby watching the interview. When Mara left the harpers, he was at her side to keep her from falling.

Reyuth landed very close to the canopies, causing one to flap enough to pull up a corner stake. T'men mounted, fastened his safety straps, and helped Mara up to his front. Reyuth, having learned from Normond, assisted Mara with his muzzle.

As soon as T'men gave him the signal, Reyuth launched. One mighty stroke of his wings had him high enough to glide to the other end of the bowl.

T'men was glad he'd fastened his riding straps, as Mara tried to dismount even before Reyuth landed. He held her tight until Reyuth landed and settled, and then let her slide.

Mara hit the ground and rolled when another sharp pain hit her side. T'men was right behind her and helped her to stand. They both hurried into the barracks.

The tall leader of Toric's brats turned away from Klamath, a sharpened branch still in his hand.

Mara broke away from T'men's hold, and moved like a large, crazed feline. When the boy raised the branch to swing at her, she grabbed it from him and broke it in two with her hands.

The boy, sensibly frightened now, backed away quickly. As he backed into a wall, he whimpered.

Mara bunched his tunic in her fists and forced him further into the stone wall. "If you ever hurt Klamath again, or any other dragon," she pulled him forward and slammed him again into the wall "I will hurt you! Do you understand?"

The boy's nod was barely noticeable with all his shaking.

Mara slammed him one more time. "Answer me! Do you understand?"

"Yes." His voice was barely a squeak.

"Good." She opened her hands and pushed against his chest. "Now, change your trousers, boy. You stink!" She backed away several paces before turning.

Mara found T'men soothing both Klamath and the boy's bronze, who was overwrought with despair at his rider's actions. T'men moved out of her way.

Mara knelt between the two little dragons. With one hand on Klamath's side, she put her other to the side of the little bronzes head. "I'm so sorry, little one." _I really won't hurt him. He just needs to believe that I will._

_I know. I tried to stop him._ His head drooped until it rested in the crook of Mara's arm.

"I know, little one. You are such a good dragon."

Klamath let out a little bawl, jealous of the attention the bronze was getting from his rider.

Mara patted the bronze one more time before turning her undivided attention to Klamath.

"Let me see, sweet heart." She rolled him slightly to get a better look at where he had been poked, and gasped. A few drops of green ichor oozed from a small hole. "He punctured your hide!" She laid a hand over the wound. "No damage below the hide. Good."

A small container of numbweed was handed over her shoulder. She squeezed T'men's hand as she accepted his offer. "Thank you."

She quickly opened the small skybroom wood jar and used one finger to scoop out a bit of the salve. As she worked it into Klamath's hide, she crooned reassurance to her little life-mate. "It's all right, dear heart. We'll ask a healer to look at this, just to be sure."

Somewhere in her mind she could hear a young dragon pleading with his rider. Somewhere else she could hear the rider berating the poor little thing. And then she heard with her ears the whistle of a strap being swung through the air.

Mara turned toward the little bronze just before the strap would have hit his face. The little one blinked into between before the strap landed. The strap continued on its path and slashed the arm she had somehow instinctively placed in just the right position to protect Klamath. And then she heard with her ears a boy screaming something about her killing his dragon.

Everything seemed to move so slowly. She could hear the boy screaming. She could hear others trying to control him. She could feel hands on her shoulders. She could hear Klamath's confusion and fear. She stretched out her arms to cover Klamath. She could hear people asking what happened. She could hear terrible thoughts from several people around her. And then she heard a statement that shut out everything else.

"**Get that dragon killer out of my barracks!**"

* * *

Hmm, this was supposed to be a short story!

Next chapter should finish Mara's eleventh day away from Keroon.


	25. Dragon killer!

Disclaimer: same, same

* * *

"**Get that dragon killer out of my barracks!**"

Those words echoed in Mara's mind, bouncing back and forth, swirling around to regain strength. Dragon killer? This has got to be a really bad dream. This could not possibly be happening.

Strong arms lifted her off the stone floor and turned her around. T'men's handsome face was moving. He was talking, but Mara couldn't make out his words. The noise was deafening; dragons were mourning, people were asking questions, and those words just kept getting louder – dragon killer. This could not be real.

She was turned and moved, but people blocked their way. Weyrwoman Lessa was talking, her face bright red. But, what was she saying? She looked so angry! Dragon killer! Weyrleader F'lar stood behind her. When her lips stopped moving, his started. Mara couldn't make out his words, either. All the flaming noise! Dragon killer!

F'lar and Lessa moved and she was led further. The boy was being held against a wall by three dragonriders. A'mos stood near them. When he saw Mara, he looked as if he would explode. He was red faced and yelled, but Mara couldn't hear what he was yelling. Dragon killer! The boy's mouth was open. He was screaming. Mara shook her head but no one seemed to see, or care. Dragon killer! The noise!

She was led outside into the sunlight. The sun was halfway to the horizon. It glared off the surface of the lake and hurt her eyes, but not as much as the noise in her head. Dragon killer! People, young people, and young dragons glared at her. Dragon killer! Some of them were talking, or yelling, or something. Dragon killer! Their mouths and hands were moving, but Mara still couldn't make out their words.

Klamath, where's Klamath? _It's all right, Klamath. It's all right, my handsome love._

She tried to turn to find Klamath. Strong arms stopped her. Dragon killer! There was T'men again. He wore his harper smile, but with deep creases on his forehead. Dragon killer! He spoke, but Mara couldn't hear him. _Where's Klamath?_

T'men moved from in front of her. Lessa was leading Klamath outside, F'lar behind. Klamath was all right, but his eyes were yellow and orange. _It's all right, my love. It's all right._

She was led further. Could she even move without the support of those strong arms? Klamath and Lessa followed. She was lowered to the ground. Lessa settled Klamath out of her reach. Mara reached for him, but those strong arms held her back and held her tight. _It's all right, Klamath._

_You didn't hurt him, Mara. His rider did. It's all right, Mara._

Oh, such a sweet little voice, and she could hear him. _Yes, it is all right, Klamath. Oh, how I love you!_

She could hear his little voice over all the sharding noise. Dragon killer. She shook her head and let those strong arms pull her to T'men's chest. _I didn't kill him._

_No, you didn't, my lovely, sweet rider. It's all right, Mara._

_I love you, Klamath._ Klamath was all right. Lessa would never hurt Klamath. Mara let her eyes close. _I love you, my handsome little brown._

_I love you, too, Mara. Sleep now. It's all right._

_You can sleep, now, Mara. We'll take care of Klamath for you._ Reyuth's voice was as soothing as his rider's.

_It'll all be just fine, dear. You sleep. You're no good for Klamath when you're this tired. _Ramoth bespoke Mara in her usual firm but calming manner.

Mara fell asleep to the sounds of dragons telling her all would be right as they told her what a lovely day it was; the sun was warm, the breeze was cool, and it was turning out to be a truly wonderful day.

* * *

T'men wasn't close enough to stop the wher-hide strap from slashing Mara's arm. But he caught the boy as he spun from the force of his own swing. He held the boy tight from behind as he began screaming and the dragons outside began their eerie, much too familiar, mourning cry.

"She killed my dragon! That ugly drudge killed my dragon!"

The boy's screams brought several weyrlingmaster's assistants in from outside. T'men turned the boy over to them and turned back to Mara and Klamath.

Mara still stared at the spot once occupied by the little bronze dragon. Her eyes were wide and her jaw hung open. She didn't even seem to be breathing.

T'men put his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently. No response. He turned to see F'lar and Lessa and then Weyrlingmaster A'mos enter the barracks, all at a run.

Klamath stood on his little couch and turned to nudge Mara's arm. She reached out both arms and pulled him close, still staring at the same empty spot.

F'lar and Lessa approached, both asking what happened. A'mos stayed near the screaming boy.

At the very moment that Benden's weyrleaders reached T'men's side, A'mos yelled. "Get that dragon killer out of my barracks!"

F'lar and Lessa both turned toward those unbelievable words. Lessa held F'lar's arm to keep him from confronting A'mos. No amount of talk would sooth this situation. Everyone would need time to settle down.

"Now! And take that sharding perverted monstrosity with her! Get them out of here!"

F'lar heeded Lessa's calming restraint and merely nodded at the furious man.

T'men lifted Mara from the floor; not an easy task, as she seemed nearly limp with shock. He turned her to face him. "It's all right, Mara. We'll just leave."

Mara just stared blankly at T'men's face. He turned her again and started walking her out of the barracks.

Lessa stopped them. "What happened, dear?"

Mara just stared and then looked up at F'lar. He also asked her what happened. Still she stared.

Lessa moved to Klamath to sooth the poor little brown. He would be so confused by all this commotion.

F'lar walked to the cot where Calloreen watched in horror all that was going on. He comforted her and asked her to stay where she was for a little while.

T'men led Mara past the boy being held against the wall.

When A'mos saw them approaching, he yelled again. "Get out of my barracks!"

The bronze rider led Mara out into the sunlight, where she turned toward the lake. The glare had to hurt, but she never blinked her eyes. Then she tried to turn back into the barracks. T'men stopped her, smiling, hoping to reassure her. "It's all right, Mara."

Her bloodshot eyes darted, trying to look past him, so he moved aside. She was looking for Klamath. Good. She would be all right. She smiled just slightly when she found her little brown, and tears began welling up in her glazing eyes. She was speaking with Klamath.

T'men led her further outside. Reyuth had settled and spread a wing for shade. He led her underneath and guided her to the ground.

Lessa led Klamath to a spot in the sun where he could see Mara and she could see him.

Mara reached for him, but T'men held her back. In her current state, too much contact with Klamath could hurt the little one more than their physical separation. Seeing each other would have to be enough.

The bronze rider sat down, back against his dragon's haunch, and pulled Mara up close. Her head rested on his chest as tears flowed, even as her smile grew slightly stronger.

T'men heard Reyuth talking to her and felt her relax. _Reyuth?_

_We're all talking to her. It helped at Benden Weyr._

Mara relaxed a bit more and T'men realized that she was asleep. He took a deep breath, let it out slow, and tried unsuccessfully to hold back his own tears. Oh, what a day.

Calloreen walked out of the weyrling barracks carrying something in one hand, with her other hand on Mynth. The little green waddled as quickly as she could to Klamath's side and lay down next to him. Her rider walked more slowly straight for Reyuth's out-stretched wing.

F'lar stood from his spot next to Lessa and blocked the weyrling's path. "Where do you think you're going, weyrling?"

"My friend needs this, sir." She held out a small wooden container.

"What is that?"

"Numbweed, sir, for her arm."

"Mmm." He nodded at her. "Then you'd better get it to your friend."

"Thank you, sir." Calloreen walked calmly to T'men's side.

F'lar turned back toward Lessa and smiled.

The girl knelt at the bronze rider's side. His eyes were closed and tears ran slowly down his cheeks. She brushed a tear away with a small hand and only spoke when he opened his eyes and smiled. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Cally. How are you doing?"

The girl blushed and looked at the ground. "I'm fine." She held out T'men's skybroom wood container. "I brought this for Mara's arm."

"How thoughtful, Cally." T'men looked down at the arm lying across his lap. "I had forgotten about her arm." A large welt was forming from the back of her hand to the elbow. Cuts on her hand still bled.

"We need a wet cloth. I'll be right back." Calloreen ran quickly back to the weyrling barracks and returned with two bathing cloths soaked in warm water.

She expertly wrung most of the water from one cloth and gently dabbed at the blood on Mara's hand and arm. The cloth was then folded just so and laid on the still bleeding cut. Calloreen held Mara's hand with her thumb pressing the cloth over the cut.

"You've done this before." T'men smiled at her concentration.

"Some of Papa's berry bushes had sharp thorns. He'd come home with worse cuts than this." She used the other cloth to dab away dried blood as she spoke. When she'd cleaned Mara's arm, she looked at T'men shyly. "May I wash your face?"

"I'd like that." He watched her fold the second cloth with clean side out and closed his eyes as she gently rubbed first one cheek and then the other. "Mmm, that feels good. Thank you, Cally." When he opened his eyes, Calloreen appeared ready to cry. "What's wrong?"

"Papa called me Cally."

"Would you rather I didn't?"

"No." She looked into his blue eyes. "I like it."

"Good. It suits you. Will you sit with us?"

Cally smiled at the invitation. "After I put numbweed on Mara's arm."

With her free hand, she picked up the wooden container and puzzled for a moment how to open it. Then she noticed T'men's unused arm. "Will you hold this?"

T'men held up his free hand and smiled as Cally directed him in how to hold the bottom of the container so she could unscrew the top. She then placed the top carefully on his nearest thigh and used a corner of the second cloth to dab out some numbweed. T'men winced slightly at the amount she used, but said nothing. Too much was better that too little, and there was plenty more in Benden Weyr's storerooms.

"Oh, there they are! May I enter, kind bronze dragon?"

T'men smiled again as Reyuth lifted his wing just slightly. Masterhealer Oldive entered the draconic canopy with Lord Lytol at his side.

"Oh, my! I see you already have a healer. I walked all this way for naught?"

Cally giggled. "I'm not a healer."

Oldive knelt next to her as Lytol walked back to the weyrleaders. "Then I'd better check your work. What have we here?"

"She was hit with a hide strap, sir."

"Oh, my. But you've cleaned the wound and used plenty of numbweed. That's good!" There was a slight emphasis on the word 'plenty'. "And what is this?" He carefully lifted the damp cloth from Mara's hand.

"It was still bleeding."

"So you cleaned it and applied pressure?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you're not a healer? Why not?"

Cally giggled again. "I'm too young."

"Your skill says otherwise, my dear! What's your name, little healer?"

"Cally, sir."

"A sweet name for a sweet girl. And polite too!" He patted her back affectionately. "I'll expect to see you at Healer Hall very soon."

Cally tried to cover her blush by picking up the lid on T'men's lap and screwing it onto the container he still held.

"She'll be rather busy for the next couple of turns, Masterhealer Oldive." T'men motioned with his head toward the two little dragons Lessa and F'lar sat next to.

Oldive's astonishment was quite believable. "You're a dragonrider, too?" Cally nodded. "Which one is yours, Cally?"

"Green Mynth, Masterhealer."

"She's beautiful, my dear. And as sweet as you, it seems. Who's the little brown?"

"That's Klamath, Mara's dragon."

"Oh, my!" Oldive looked at T'men for confirmation, even though he had been informed of this unusual pairing. "That helps to explain this poor woman's exhaustion! All the excitement of this day," he put a hand to the side of his head, "and she impressed a beautiful brown! Has she slept at all prior to now?"

"She slept most of the morning after Klamath's first meal, but I don't believe she slept very restfully last night." T'men took a deep breath. "She's been kicked out of the weyrling barracks due to a serious misunderstanding. I think that shocked her pretty badly."

"Ah, that would be the final stick on the dray beast's back wouldn't it? I know how she loves anything to do with the dragons." Oldive placed a gentle hand on Mara's head and stroked a knowing thumb across her forehead. "Well, besides food and water, what she needs most right now is sleep." He winked at T'men and turned to Calloreen. "And a skillful eye on this bleeding. May I leave her in your able care, my dear Cally?"

Young Cally blushed and stammered, unsure whether to address his compliment or to accept the assignment, but managing to do both.

The Masterhealer of Pern asked for assistance from the girl to return to his feet. He had learned through the turns that such 'assistance' was an excellent measure of a person's strength, balance, and even coordination. This girl, he decided, had spent many days either working or playing hard; she was quite strong for her age and size and extremely well coordinated.

Oldive excused himself from Cally's presence and joined the Benden weyrleaders and Lytol.

Cally sat next to T'men, and in very short order was sound asleep with her head on his thigh.

F'lar and Lessa questioned Oldive on Mara's current state. F'lar wondered if this sort of 'breakdown' might be expected to occur again.

Oldive laughed at the suggestion, and found himself explaining his amusement. Mara, he said, had experienced more on this day alone than most people would experience in a lifetime. Hearing dragons and people during such an unusual hatching, alone, would probably send most people into near hysterics. With the added emotional upheaval of an impression, Oldive was not at all surprised at her apparent mental shutdown. The human brain, he told them, was the most amazing machine. If it found itself too close to being damaged, it could simply shut itself off temporarily until the cause of the damage could be eliminated, or reduced, or dealt with in some manner.

"And, when was the gather at Keroon?" Oldive feigned mental lapse.

"Eleven days ago." Lessa smiled, anticipating where this question was leading.

"In the last eleven days, this woman's entire world has been drastically altered, for the better, I'm sure, but, everything has changed. Most people her age wouldn't be able to manage even a portion of the changes she seems to be thriving on. This day, and the events leading up to this day, has temporarily overstretched her mental limits. If I were a betting man, I would bet that after this much-needed rest, Mara will be even stronger than ever."

Lytol's brows lifted. "Could be why brown Klamath chose her."

Oldive smiled and nodded. "I would believe that far quicker than I would believe the rumors already spreading."

"Could the rumors be accurate?" F'lar was already thinking about future wing assignments.

Lessa was perturbed. "It shouldn't matter. Klamath chose Mara and now we'll deal with it."

Oldive smiled kindly. "Of course, my dear Lessa, but more knowledge is seldom as hazardous as less."

Lytol continued the thought. "Unless, of course, that knowledge is misused."

The entire group fell silent, each wondering for their own reasons, if they really wanted, or needed, to know anything about brown rider Mara's sexual drives.

F'lar wondered if there might be some hidden defect in Klamath that Ramoth and Mnementh hadn't been able to detect. Barring that ridiculous notion, he thought about how she could be ridiculed by other riders, and possibly endangered in a Thread fall. But, he also wondered how many of the male green riders might like their greens to be flown by Klamath.

Lessa could not, or perhaps would not, believe that Mara, so infatuated with G'raden, could possibly be interested in women. It really shouldn't matter; she was a good, strong, capable, and intelligent person. And Lessa enjoyed her company; perhaps that's why she didn't want to know.

Oldive, having seen Mara's demeanor around the big bronze rider, wondered if she might be one of those people who liked men and women. AIVAS had files on such people from Earth. He had met a few people who might well be of that sort, but such was simply not discussed on Pern; perhaps it was time to bring such realities out in the open. It wasn't such a bad thing after all; it was merely different.

Lytol hoped to speak with Mara soon to make his own determinations. This hatching had been quite stressful for all involved, but he had seen quite a few seemingly suitable candidates just outside the hatching grounds. Had Klamath picked Mara from the beginning? Or had he merely followed Barnath and chosen from who was available in the living cavern? He would like to talk to the woman himself.

Lessa broke the silence. "Ramoth informs me that G'dened is out of his weyr."

"I should speak with him." F'lar stood as he spoke and then bowed slightly at Lessa. "If you'll excuse me, my dear weyrwoman?"

"Would you mind checking on Saraneth and Brendeen? Make sure Saraneth doesn't eat any more."

"Yes, dear." F'lar took his leave of Masterhealer Oldive and Lord Holder Lytol, turned and trotted toward the other end of the bowl.

"I do hope they'll allow me to check in on her in a few days." Oldive sounded skeptical.

"They will have nothing to say about you visiting Benden Weyr, Masterhealer." Lessa's fierce gaze comforted Oldive.

"And the little healer?" he asked hopefully.

Lytol laughed. "I think they'll allow her a quick transfer as well." At Oldive's puzzled look, Lytol continued. "Perhaps you haven't noticed, but Ista Weyr has no women green riders."

"They wouldn't know the first thing about training such a young girl. With Mara here, I thought she would be taken care of. But, now?" Lessa shook her head.

Lessa and Oldive spoke quietly about the special training that would be needed for Calloreen.

Lytol excused himself to hopefully talk with G'dened. Oldive apologized profusely to the ex-brown rider, but was told emphatically that Lytol really did hope to speak with G'dened.

Lessa and Oldive then moved on to talk about weyrling training and weyr-life in general.

About an hour later, F'lar returned wearing a cautious smile.

G'dened, being helped by two healers, was close behind.

Barnath followed the procession with his muzzle very close behind G'dened, which seemed to bother the healers just a bit.

Once G'dened stopped and allowed F'lar to keep him steady, the healers backed away to give the weyrleaders some privacy.

G'dened, more humble than Benden's weyrleaders had ever thought possible, addressed Lessa formally. "Weyrwoman Lessa, Ista Weyr is in your debt for your immeasurable and undeserved assistance this day."

"We did this for all of Pern, Weyrleader G'dened." Lessa could almost feel sorry for this man's troubles, even if he probably brought them on himself.

G'dened nodded his acceptance of her release, if only partial, of that unbelievably huge debt. To cover his surprise and shock, he turned toward the two sleeping dragonets. "This is the brown who chose a woman?"

"His name is Klamath" F'lar supplied from his side.

"He appears quite healthy."

"Both Ramoth and Mnementh, as well as quite a few healers, believe him to be a perfectly healthy and perfectly normal dragon."

"As do Barnath and Caylith." G'dened reached behind to place a hand on his bronze's muzzle. "Barnath has informed me that Saraneth, Klamath and Mynth all located their riders while still in the Hatching Grounds. He would not have injured that man otherwise."

Lessa moved away from G'dened's side to allow Barnath to move in closer to his rider. "Barnath's actions were justified, G'dened, as were Caylith's, under the circumstances."

Tears of gratitude for such a declaration threatened to spill, so G'dened turned toward the shade of Reyuth's wing. He kept one shaking hand on Barnath. The two seemed to be drawing strength from each other.

F'lar, not wishing to embarrass the man any further, also turned toward the sleeping trio under Reyuth's wing. "Mara is the older of the two with T'men."

"Is she capable of handling a brown dragon?"

Lessa spoke from the other side of Barnath. "I'm a bit surprised Saraneth didn't choose her."

"I see." G'dened didn't look away from the sleepers. "How old is Mynth's rider?"

"Calloreen was thrilled to inform me that she just celebrated her eleventh birthing day less than a month ago." Lessa smiled at the girl's excitement when she spoke about her birthing day celebration.

Ista's weyrleader shook his head, knowing that the girl would most likely not be prepared for Mynth's first mating flight. He finally turned to face Lessa. "Caylith has informed me that you agreed to train Saraneth and her rider. I disapprove, but I defer to my queen where her daughter is concerned. I am grateful that you granted her request."

Lessa worried that this once proud, self-righteous, hide-bound man might reach his limit of humility, even as he obviously struggled for his next words.

"Weyrwoman Lessa, as you know, Ista Weyr is the smallest weyr on Pern."

Lessa did not correct his false statement; Western and Eastern Weyrs were only beginning to populate, and Honshu Weyrhold might always be the smallest weyr on Pern.

"We don't have the room, or the personnel to deal with special cases. And Saraneth should have at least some of her clutch-mates with her. Would you consider . . ."

Lessa couldn't stand any more. This man had obviously learned some valuable lessons at immeasurable long-term expense. "Two future dragonriders in exchange for training one queen and her rider?"

G'dened was shocked. He was about to ask for a huge favor, not a trade. "Would you consider that a fair trade?"

"We know the brown rider and have high expectations of her. And the green rider has shown great potential in the very short time we've known her." She shared a look with F'lar, and both nodded.

F'lar answered the Ista weyrleader's question. "This should be an equitable exchange."

G'dened visibly sagged with relief. He nodded at each of Benden's weyrleaders, unable to speak, and then closed his eyes against threatening tears.

At F'lar's request, the healers found several chairs, which were placed near the young dragons. The day was cooling off and the sun was low enough to not cause serious discomfort. The Benden weyrleaders, Weyrleader G'dened, and Masterhealer Oldive all sat in a small semicircle.

They spoke until near sundown about the recovery of Ista Weyr. G'dened was extremely embarrassed by the events that had occurred. Lessa, while somewhat pleased by his lack of obstinacy, wondered if the man would ever be able to regain the confidence needed to properly lead a weyr.

G'dened agreed that some changes should be made. His first concession would be to request help from Harper Hall. If his people had been more learned in Pernese rights granted by the Charter, this attempted take-over might have been squashed much earlier.

He also agreed that a junior weyrwoman from another weyr would be quite helpful. Gridella would be worthless; she was lazy and selfish. Sansheena, though, with proper training, would make a good weyrwoman, though she had some rather frightening, to G'dened, ideas about how to run a weyr. Cosira had never properly trained either of them, taking all the responsibilities on herself, and only doling out the most onerous of tasks to her juniors.

G'dened, in an almost tearful moment, revealed that Cosira had never actually wanted to be a dragonrider, much less a weyrwoman. She had other ideas as a child, but followed the expectations of her elders when they first arrived in the current Pass.

Oldive shook his head at this revelation; this simple fact could have a strong negative bearing on Cosira's recovery.

They had planned, G'dened informed them, after this Pass, to retire to Southern to pursue, or at least investigate, some of Cosira's childhood dreams.

The Istan weyrleader had bespoken Caylith and was worried about her. She was not convinced that Cosira would ever recover, but would not give up hoping until a suitable queen was available to Ista Weyr.

A'mos, said G'dened, was a good man. He had always been G'dened's most trusted advisor, being his elder by more than a decade. G'dened chuckled as he told that even he had trouble with some of A'mos' old traditional ways. He wasn't at all surprised that A'mos had taken the first opportunity presented to banish a woman brown rider. A'mos didn't approve of women on any fighting dragon.

Yes, G'dened would accept 'assistance' from the other weyrs in the form of advisors. It was painfully obvious that the 'Old Ways', as he called them, were not appropriate on today's Pern, and would likely be of far less use after Thread stopped altogether. G'dened still seemed doubtful of the concept of After, but did not voice his opinions, other than to say he hoped Thread fighting practices would be continued.

F'lar stated with confidence that since dragons were created for the sole purpose of fighting Thread, he was sure that the techniques learned over twenty-five hundred turns would be practiced as long as dragons existed on Pern. "May that be for all eternity!"

The discussion was ended when a bronze dragon on the rim let out a heart wrenching squeal, jumped off the rim, and disappeared into between. Barnath moaned pitifully before raising his head to join in one more draconic mourning chorus. Reyuth joined in, and both young dragons stirred from their sleep.

When the noise cleared, G'dened was hanging his head, tears flowing freely.

"What happened?" Oldive asked quietly of Lessa.

Lessa shook her head at him; he understood that she would explain later. Ramoth informed her that Rinalth's rider had admitted to killing at least three female drudges, and Rinalth had gone between in shock and shame. Lessa would learn later the B'rem was the bronze's rider.

Mara, T'men and Calloreen were also woken by the sorrowful din. The young girl bounced up and ran to her little green dragon. Mara groaned as she tried to force stiff joints and aching muscles to push her away from the ever-smiling T'men. T'men stood with only slight discomfort, stretched, and assisted Mara to her feet. He held her steady as she worked stiff joints and held her arm as they walked to Klamath.

Mara knelt next to her little brown and cradled his head to her chest. "It's all right, my love. Rinalth doesn't hurt anymore."

Lessa walked between Klamath and Mynth, checking their conditions, as she conversed with Ramoth.

F'lar joined her after leaving G'dened in the care of the two healers who had accompanied him from his weyr. When Lessa nodded, he began conversing with Mnementh.

Oldive went to Mara's side to check on her arm and hand, and her general mental state. He wished he were a betting man when she smiled. She still showed signs of extreme mental stress, but her smile lifted his spirit to a point he felt he could fly without the aid of a dragon.

Young Cally helped the Masterhealer apply a more stable bandage to Mara's hand. Oldive marveled at the resilience of youth as she gave her full attention to his demonstration.

As Mara yawned, yet again, F'lar laughed. "I think we'd better get these weyrlings settled before they fall asleep again."

Mara was surprised when three of Benden's riders, assisted by Weyrlingmaster L'ret began wrapping long wher-hide straps around Klamath and Mynth. She looked with puzzlement at T'men. "What are they doing?"

"Klamath and Mynth are going flying." T'men's beautiful harper smile was barely controlled.

"We're going home?" Mara's eyes overflowed.

"Yes, Sweet Thing, we're going home." T'men stroked her hair and ran a thumb across one damp cheek.

Mara bounced as she leaned forward and hugged the smiling bronze rider so tight he had to laugh.

"Not if you don't let me breath!"

They both turned to watch as the straps were run over the dragonet's necks, across their chests, up and over their backs behind their wings, and back down between their hind legs. L'ret called the girls over to check that the placement of the straps wasn't too uncomfortable, and then gave each of them the long ends that would be attached to the larger dragon's riding straps. He called Brendeen over, and admonished all three girls with stern orders to not let their dragons spread their wings, even a little bit; they were not strong enough yet. He was rewarded with three very satisfying 'yes, sir!'s.

Brendeen returned to Saraneth, and the others watched as the little queen was very carefully loaded onto Ramoth's back.

Barnath, himself, lifted the little queen in his strong but gentle forepaws and turned his massive torso to place her just forward of Ramoth's riding straps. Lessa pulled the long, loose ends from Saraneth's back as Mnementh stood on his haunches, ready to assist Barnath if necessary, on Ramoth's other side. A rider on each side of Ramoth, each part-way up her riding straps, helped to settle the little queen and fastened the straps such that Brendeen would be sitting on them in front of Lessa. Saraneth would ride stretched out next to Ramoth's neck ridges; Lessa informed her that she should use her claws to hold on tight.

When Saraneth was in place, Brendeen left Weyrleader G'dened's side with a smile; he had been talking to her about her eventual return to Ista Weyr. She was helped aboard and wrapped in yet another safety strap. She would be able to lean forward over Saraneth while safely attached to Lessa and Ramoth.

Klamath and Mara were loaded in a similar fashion onto Reyuth, and then Reyuth stood ready to assist as Mynth and Calloreen were loaded onto Mnementh.

As Rukbat slid over the horizon of Big Bay, G'dened was led back to the wall of the bowl. He waved at the young queen and her rider as they were lifted into the sky by another weyr's queen. Unfettered tears rolled down his face as he watched two more of Caylith's clutch carried upward. He found Barnath, standing nearby, eyes whirling slowly, yellow mixed into the green and blue.

_They will be happier at Benden Weyr._ Barnath turned to G'dened as he bespoke his rider.

_Yes, my heart of hearts, they will._

Neither saw the three Benden dragons blink into between.

* * *

There's a whole lot more where this came from; this 'short story' has only covered Mara's first 11 days at Benden Weyr, after all. But, I need to take some time off. Did you know that September is almost here (plugging my ears as you all say 'duhhh')? OMG! I never planted my garden! I still have to cut some firewood, build a fence, finish a garage, clean the chicken coop, the yard could use some work, and someday, I need to get this house back in order. I NEED A DRUDGE! (or a domestically inclined husband (nahhh))

Mara is now back at Benden Weyr with new friends, and as you can imagine, she and Klamath and the others will be pretty busy for awhile with their weyrling training. I will drop in from time to time with some of the more interesting addendums to her training, and of course, her relationship with my dreamily sweet G'raden. And then there's that luscious T'men (oh, how I wish I could meet either one of them). And, of course, impressing a brown (most of the time) dragon is not Mara's only claim to fame. I will eventually get to that part of the story. Fair warning: that too, will be slightly AU, but believable (I hope).

I would like to take this opportunity to thank each and every single person who has read this story and not flamed the living Thread out of me. And I especially want to thank all of you who took the time to review this story – I greatly appreciate your interest, your support, and your constructive criticism!

You are all the wind beneath my finally maturing literary wings.

As another of my favorite imaginary characters has said,

"I'LL BE BACK!"


	26. Chapter 26

This story is being continued in 'Mara – Weyrling Brown Rider'.

Hope no one's been waiting too long for an update to this one.


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